


A Chance Encounter

by Earlgray



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 1 of 2, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, hints of dark themes, no magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgray/pseuds/Earlgray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Arthur and Merlin are lost and broken, through a chance encounter, can they help each other to heal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hi my names Arthur and I’m an alcoholic” the anonymous faces sat in the circle, staring at him with disgust? Shock? Awe? he didn’t know, but it wasn’t nice

“Why is when you state that word, alcoholic, people throw on their mask of pity? Well I don’t fucking need their pity, don’t deserve it in fact. Not for the things I’ve done. Alcohol has been my demon for too long, brought out the evil in me. It needs to stop. So that’s why I’m here, to get my life back on track”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and scrubbed his hand through his hair, trying to get comfortable with their penetrating gazes

This was the third week he’d been coming here, and every time, he’d sat with a scowl and refused to say anything. It was about bloody time he manned up and spoke, it was reason he was here after all.

“So I reckon you think you know all about me, huh? I mean I’ve been plastered across just about every fucking British rag there is. So you’ll know all about how I’m a disgrace to my father, The Uther Pendragon; how being a “trust fund brat” means I’ve never worked a day in my life? How I’ve spent all my time partying?”

The blonde gritted his teeth. Anger was another one of those issues he really needed to work on. It would really not help his situation if he went bat shit crazy at these people he didn’t even know. They hadn’t even said a word and he was starting to get riled up, like they were the ones that had put him here.

He snorted, anger quickly giving way to dark humour; the only person he could blame was himself. And now they were all looking at him like he was crazy. Great Arthur, laughing at an alcoholics meeting, real nice.

Arhtur shook his head, trying to remember what the hell he’d been talking about. He swore his mind was like a fucking commentary sometimes, no wonder people thought he was an absolute waster, he couldn’t even finish a sentence.

“Well let me tell you what my life has actually been like. My mother died giving birth to me, which is quite rare in this day and age, but it still happens. My father business had just started to take off, so being the piece of shit he is, he put his every waking moment into it, meaning I never saw him growing up. I was passed from hand to hand, every time I forced one out, my father would just pick a replacement, he never saw that all I wanted, the only thing I wanted was his attention.”

His breath left him in a rush and he rubbed his hands across his face, trying to calm down. He still held a lot of resentment towards his father. He was working on it. He forced himself to carry on.

“I can look back now and admit I was an awful child, I was so cruel to all those child minders and nanny’s, who were only trying to do their job. But in my eyes they could never fill the void my mother had left.”

He felt his voice faded as he thought back over that period of life, which, with all that he’d done since, still caused him the most pain.

“Arthur?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry” He cleared his throat and blinked his eyes in rapid succession. He was not crying, it was the dust.

* * * *

Merlin Swam into consciousness, and the first thing he noticed was the smell. Jesus Christ, what was that? He sniffed at his armpits, oh it was him. 

He stretched his arms above his head, trying to work the kinks out of his body. This blasted alley wall was so hard! He supposed that’s what he got for being homeless. He got to his feet, gathering his meagre belongings into his arms. Blanket, check. Knife, check. Day old bread, check. 5 pound coins, check. 

He stood, looking at his collection for an unmeasured amount of time, his mind whirring. Was this really all he owned? Of course he had the clothes on his back, but they weren’t exactly, well, practical. He could feel his despair creeping over him once again. 

Perhaps he should return to that brothel, at least there they kept him warm, fed and clothed. And of course, doped up, so he could forget about his miserable existence, and give little resistance when those greasy old men would paw at him, pushing into him, not caring about the pain they caused.

He scratched absently at the track marks on his arms, thinking about that blissful, floating feeling it gave him, and how he really didn’t care what happened to him when he was in that state.

NO! He shook his head violently, his matted dark hair whipping about his face. No, he refused to do that again. He’d escaped it, he had his freedom, he was clean, and though it may not seem much better than in there now, he was independent. Going cold turkey in a place like that was bad enough; alone, scared, trying to go undetected and still perform without vomiting. He would not do that again.

It had taken him months to wean himself off whatever concoction of drugs they had been giving him. Lying on a filthy pallet, rags for blankets, sweating and shivering and trying not to scream out loud at the anguish. So many times he’d nearly snapped, and begged, pleaded with them, to just give him something, anything to take it away, to make him lucid and unfeeling. But each time, he’d look out of the skylight directly above his so called bed, and see the moon and the stars, twinking all merry and unconcerned, and free. That was what he wanted. Freedom

So he did it, he got clean, over all those months; clean enough to think and see and realise he was in hell. So one night, when it was quiet, and all the others were doped up and snoring on their pallets, he smashed the skylight, fearing the racket would bring them running. When no one came, he climbed out and shimmied down the drainpipe, as quick as could in what he belatedly realised, were his hooker clothes and entirely impractical for escape. 

But it had worked, he had done it, no one had chased him, apparently too safe in their arrogance to think one of their sluts would ever try to escape. 

That was 2 weeks ago now and his resolve was faltering. They say the grass is always greener on the other side. Too bloody right it was, because this alley was bleak.

“It may look bleak now, Merlin” he said to himself “but you are strong, you are smart, and you can claw your way out of this situation”

“You will not go back to being someone else’s mindless plaything”

He stashed his belongings in the dumpster, where obviously no one would steal them. He pushed his shoulders back, tilted his head up, and strode out of the alley and into the bustling morning of London.


	2. Chapter 2

“are you ok to carry on now, Arthur?”

He cleared his throat and scratched the corner of his eyes to clear the “dust”

“Yep, ok. Well, when I was ten, my father’s company was growing at an astronomical rate, but my anguish grew faster. I turned violent, lashing out at anyone who tried to get close to me. Instead of trying to help me, trying to break through my animosity by talking to me, Uther offloaded me onto a, no doubt ridiculously expensive, child psychiatrist. Dr Davies, though he always insisted I called him Tom, as if we were fucking pals, like he would still be there if he wasn’t get a shit load of money. “Tom” tried to get me to open up, talk about my feelings for my father and all that crap, but I refused, sitting in silence for hours on end, staring at the shitty artwork on his walls.”

All the while Arthur was speaking, that fucking voice in the back of his head was screeching,

“Why are you explaining this to these people? You don’t owe them shit!”

 He viscously squashed that voice with all the ruthlessness he possessed. He knew he didn’t have to explain anything to “these people” but all of _this,_ this hurt and anguish and resentment had been bottled up inside of him for too long. It was what has had lead him down this path in the first place.

His father would be proud; he was using these people as his own personal shrink. For free. If he didn’t need to do this so badly, to talk it out, to help him climb out of his own hell, then he would have called himself a heartless bastard and walked out.

Well also, this was the only thing stopping his father from sending him to prison; he’d already frozen his trust fund. If it wasn’t for both of those things, then sure he’d walk out. Hell he was an arrogant free loading drunk, but he didn’t want to end up in jail. He wasn’t fucking stupid!

He carried on speaking, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he had chance to consider how weak he probably sounded, and take them back.

“The therapy went on until my mid-teens, and I got a grim sort of satisfaction from knowing my father was pouring thousands of pounds into this, all to no avail. Eventually Dr Davies called a halt to the proceedings, saying that I was wasting his time. I’m surprised he actually gave a shit, he was still getting paid. The one thing he did help me with was my anger, though not intentionally; the sound of his monotone voice soothed my rage and I found thinking about it helped me direct my anger so it was only aimed at things, not people.”

A humourless smirk graced his features.  By then his father’s company was booming, so Uther had tried to buy him off with endless gifts, the newest fashions, the most expensive gadgets. But he’d shunned them all. He remembered the sick joy he got from smashing, crushing and ripping all those expensive, expensive things. He was sure some of them could have fed a family for an entire year.

 

Once again he was stifling a dark smile and this time he wasn’t even sure why. Seriously, he needed to get a grip, or else they’d cart him straight off to the mental hospital and then he’d never find _him_.

 ****

Once out on the street, Merlin surveyed the scene with quick eyes, using his years of practice to identify some easy pickings. Ok so this wasn’t exactly the clean lifestyle he’d envisioned before he left the brothel, but he had to eat, didn’t he?

He walked with a quick light tread down the street, threading through the crowds, accidentally brushing against people with careful consideration. He never took more than he needed, never more than he knew those people could spare.

When he was younger, his mother had always been a mess, blind drunk or worse, and he’d had to go out into the streets, standing there in threadbare, usually filthy clothes, and beg, borrow or steal whatever he could. He was lucky that he was a beautiful child, for many took pity on him and give him a few pounds, or food, or clothes.

There were those that tried to go further for him, tried to take him to the police station, or to the social services, and each time he would flee, running as if hades himself were chasing him.

His mother had fed him all sorts of stories about the authorities, saying they would take him away and lock him up and beat him and starve him. She told him the only person that would ever love him was her, and she knew what was best for him; he would stay with her and she would keep him safe.

 _Safe._ How could anyone be safe in hell? He’d learnt as he got older that she didn’t care about him as any more than a cash cow, getting money to feed her latest habit. So he’d run away. He’d become hard and cold from all the years he’d lived with his mother, so he felt he could manage to live on his own, out on the street. He was smart and he was tough. But nothing could have prepared him for the cold at nights, without a roof over his head. The aching hunger, was unfortunately all too familiar, but without proper rest, he began to suffer.  When they found him, he was pretty much skin and bones.

“you all righ’ there lad?”

Merlin slowly lifted his head from his chest, it felt far too heavy. “who are you, what do you want?”

He’d tried to shout it, really he had, tried to sound threatening at least, but he was just so _tired._

“Oh calm yourself lad, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be out he is all, we was wondering if you wanted summat to eat, perhaps somewhere warm to rest ya head, eh?”

He knew he should have refused, he could sense there was a catch, a but, something he’d have to do in return for this seemingly random act of kindness. He may have been just 19, but he was no fool. Trouble was he could see the food, that beautiful vision, hot, steaming and rich. He could see the soft warm bed, where he could just rest, only for the night, then he would leave them in the morning, and it’d all be ok.

And the rest they say, was a bleak and miserable history, and had got him to where he was right now.

He felt wetness on his cheeks, and lifted a finger to his face to catch a drop. Why the hell was he crying? Yes he’d had a bad lot in life, and it was, pardon his language, fucking shit; he hated to swear, it sounded so cheap, and he was done with being that. There was no use crying about it now though was there? There was food to buy, and a hell hole to crawl out of.

Why did he believe _him_ when he said he’d come back?


	3. Chapter 3

“I didn’t have any friends at school, the most exclusive school in the country, because even there my dad was the most famous, head of the biggest fucking international company in the god damn world. I mistrusted everyone, fearing they only wanted to be close to me for my name.  That was when it started, the drinking. I stole it from the house, not that my father ever noticed, he was never there. I drank to escape my life, to numb the aching loneliness, to mask the bitterness I felt towards my father.”

The drink caused Arthur a lot of problems at school, He was constantly in trouble for not paying attention; well that and usually vomiting in the most inconvenient places. His father hated it, nothing Uther did ever got through to him. Well that was the way he liked it. He constantly drank himself into a stupor, and didn’t give a fuck what the rest of world thought, especially not his father.

“By the time I came of legal drinking age, I was drinking most days. Anything I could buy or procure was consumed immediately, so usually I was half cut by lunchtime. I had finished school with abysmal grades, so there was no way I could go to university, and with all the money my father supplied me with I didn’t need a job. So I moved out, away from the house, I couldn’t call it a home, it held no sentiment for me, and bought a big fuck off place in London’s most expensive post code. You all know what it looks like; you’ve seen me stumbling out of the front door, blind drunk at ten in the morning, usually with a gorgeous guy hanging of my arm. My little problem, as my father called it. Fucking homophobic prick. “

“Even though I’d moved thousands of miles away from him; no I’m not exaggerating, Uther now lives in New York, I still felt crushed under his influence. Probably because I lived off of his money, but fuck if I was going to follow that thought too deeply, because I didn’t want to give it up, and find myself with only the cold hard bottle as company.  Not that I actually had anything else, but the money kept my life comfortable, easy.”

And now the hard bit. All the rest, all that stuff that happened up until Arthur moved out, could partially be blamed on Uther’s lack of attention. Before then he was still a child, and growing up in his circumstances meant he had very little understanding of the real world, so he thought he could do as he pleased. But after that, god after that, He was legally a man, and all the things he had done were all his own fucking fault. And bloody hell if they don’t haunt his dreams till the day he dies.

“Now we get to the bit you all know and love: the tabloids. Oh yes, those bastards, they’ve recorded every single moment of my disgrace, and I’m sure there are many of them.  Not that I remember most of them, drinking so much that you pickle your brain sort of has that effect.”

Not that that stopped his subconscious from dragging them into his sleep, he thought wryly.

He took a deep breath, swallowing his resentment and anger. Get a fucking grip Arthur! It was not these peoples fault! Yes the fame, the newspapers, the attention, was his shit of a fathers fault, but the drinking, the scandals, that was all him.

“There are a few, sorry, many horrific moments in my life, that should have shocked me sober, made me take a good hard look at my life, and think, fuck, this needs to change. But in my state, they only pushed me further into the bottle, unwilling to face my demons.”

 

 ****

The demons of his mind were back, and he really really hated them.

Merlin sometimes had flashbacks, probably withdrawal symptoms from the drugs. They were like nightmares; but they were real, sick twisted visions of things he’d hoped he was too drugged to remember. They happened at random times, and unfortunately this one occurred whilst he was in the middle of borrowing someone’s wallet.

He had managed to “acquire” enough money to get himself some hot food, scarfing it down whilst sat at the back of the diner, using his quick eyes to see all the looks of disgust people gave him. It turned his stomach, how people could be so cruel, they had no idea about his life, how dare they judge him!

It happened every time he had to interact with people. He was always polite and well mannered, trying to use his once beauty, hidden under dirt and pain and anger. But he knew what he looked like now; he had no skewed, rose tinted view, and for all the charm and manners he used, people were still horrified and repulsed by him. It made his emotions run cold and washed the guilt away, how callous the world could be. It allowed him steal with less thought for others, less morals. Those days he was full and rich.

So he scraped his chair back as he stood, the sound of it like banshees in the night, causing even those in the café who were ignoring him to look up with shock and surprise. He strode out, long fierce strides, his whole being radiating anger and violence.

The door to the café rang a falsely cheery jingle as he passed through, choosing his next victim from the street with cold unfeeling care. Perfect. Businessman. Expensive coat. Frantically texting, very unaware.

Merlin followed him, quick and lithe and silent, looking for all intents and purposes unconcerned with his surroundings, just passing through. Getting close to the man he could feel the shoulder of his thin t-shirt in line with a thick woollen coat, and his knuckles brushing against the soft lining of a pocket, when everything stated to fade, and his vision went dark at the corners.

“Oh, god ,no. Not now!” Merlin thought desperately, shaking his head, trying to clear the blackness.

“I really do not need this!”

He swiftly retracted his hand, and pressed backwards through the crowd; elbowing his way out, ignoring the crys of outrage he left in his wake. He tried to outrun the darkness, but it was faster than him, and he could barely see his alley as he skidded round the corner. He managed to snag his belongings from the dumpster before he felt his body sink onto the cold dank floor as if in slow motion. His last thought before vision went black was

“That’s why you don’t get angry, because karma gets angry at you”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with hints of violence and prostitution. You have been warned. If any of this offends you, don't read the chapter, because its pretty much all of it.

He drew a shaky breath. It was too much, these demons were too real. There was no fucking way he could share those memories with these people.

They all knew some version of them, from what those fucking pigs wrote in the papers. Their eyes showed their venom, their hatred of what he had done. They saw pictures of him, drinking, partying, and laughing without a care in the world. But they didn’t know, didn’t understand that it killed him inside, to wake up; those few moments between sleep and wakefulness, before reality hit, being the happiest of his day. Because when he remembered who he was, what he’d done, he prayed he would never wake up again.

But then everything changed.

One memory. One person. One week.

It was the most important event in his life, the single most pivotal thing that had ever happened to him and it had only occurred a week ago.  It was what made him want to actually change it around, what made him want to be here, in this fucking church hall, for a shitty alcoholics meeting, instead of being forced to be here by Uther. It was what made him want to actually speak out, and get rid of the weight that had been dragging on him for years. In one week it had all changed.

Arthur was at the biggest gay bar in London, pissed out of his face as usual. He’d found a gorgeous dark haired man, Steve? Sam? Who he’d been relentlessly torturing with his wicked tongue. He’d dragged Steve/Sam through the crowd towards the door, intent on taking him home. Steve’s/Sam’s grip had suddenly loosened in Arthur’s, and he’d turned rapidly and fled for the bathroom, where loud retching noises could then be heard.

It’d pissed Arthur off no end, being drunk and horny as he was that he had no motivation to put in the effort to find another. So he’d staggered outside into the cold night, which had sobered him up slightly, and he’d set off in search of a taxi to take him home. Loitering against the wall opposite the club were a group of men who, if he’d been sober, he would have been extremely wary of. As he’d staggered off down the road, they’d pushed off the wall and started to follow him, hurling the typical homophobic insults that ignorant arseholes think they have the right to say.

“Oi, poofter!”

“You fucking shirt lifter, your kind make me sick!”

“You only do it ‘cause no woman would ever want you! Why would they, dirty little faggot like you”

“You’re dirty little whore, the whole lot of you are. You’d bend over for any guy that looked your way wouldn’t you”

So being his typical arrogant, obnoxious self, Arthur had spun around to confront them. Only to meet a fist to the face. His lips had felt hot and wet as the blood had spurted from his nose. He never got the chance to check if it was broken before another fist had hit him in the stomach. He’d dropped like a stone, hunched over on his knees as he’d coughed and spluttered.  A booted foot had landed squarely in his back, with so much force that his hands had given up their grip on the floor, leaving him sprawled. He’d curled in on himself, hugging his thighs to his chest to try to keep the rain of blows from hurting too much. They’d still hurt like a bitch though. The memory still makes him wince.

He must have drifted into unconsciousness, because the next thing he knew he was groggily lifting his head from the pavement, his face throbbing and tight. He’d gingerly touched his fingers to it, not realising at the time he had a broken nose and cheekbone, and needed several stitches. His head had felt like all the kings’ horses and all the kings men had trampled through it, but he was still not sure whether that was a raging hangover, or the all mighty beating he’d received. He reckoned it was probably a fuck load of both.

He’d heaved himself to his feet, with superhuman effort, and he’d realised his feet felt cold. Looking down, he’d had a shock. He had no shoes. Or socks. In patting down his pockets he’d discovered they’d taken everything and he meant everything. At the time he’d cursed the fucking twats to the end of hell and back, he’d had no money, no way of contacting anyone. He’d been stranded in central London on a sunday morning, so his father’s offices had not even been open, not that anyone there would have recognised him in that state. He had been well and truly fucked.

Now, he chuckled to remember how furious he had been. Now, he’d love to find the guys who did that to him and fucking thank them. Because, if they’d never beaten the living daylights out of him, he never would have met _Merlin_.

 

 ****

He was 19 again. He was lying back, on a large double bed in a small dank room. The bed sank under his weight, the mattress thin, the springs digging into his back. The stained sheets were rumpled around him, barely covering his nudity

He was starting to feel the unpleasant ache of his body, bruises blossoming on his sharp hips and angular shoulders, the cold thick liquid seeping from arse, the bone deep tiredness. His vision was becoming sharper, he was more aware of where he was, what he was, _who_ he was.

He needed another hit, _now_. He could not do this clean, he refused to do this clean.

But they weren’t here; they were never around, when he absolutely desperately needed him. He wanted to find them, to break down, bare his soul and show them what they’d done; showing them all he needed to smother it all was another hit.

He had no time anyway, his next customer was at the door, and he hadn’t even cleaned himself up. Not that he cared.

The man walked in, confident, sure. He was young, and exceedingly handsome. Merlin was not so self-loathing that he didn’t feel a slight anticipation and excitement at being taken by this man.

Merlin tried to arrange himself more artfully, trying for seduction. He looked up at the man through his thick dark lashes.

“I’m ever so sorry, you didn’t give me chance to clean up, otherwise I would have been much more presentable” He said in his most seductive voice. They would be impressed, that it wasn’t even forced, and they didn’t have to beat him into do it.

“It does not matter, for you are still lovely” the man said, his voice low and sultry

Merlin was embarrassed for the blush that bloomed across his cheeks. Was simple flattery all it took to please him? When had he fallen so far?

“What is your name sir?”

“Mordred”

“And I am Merlin”

“Enchanted to meet you, Merlin” Mordred crossed the room and dropped to his knees beside the bed to pick up his hand. He brought it to his lips, and never braking eye contact with him, brushed a sweet kiss across Merlin’s knuckles.

He was uncertain if this man was genuine, if Mordred was genuinely his name, but his tenderness and seeming sincerity allowed Merlin’s wariness to thaw. This man, Mordred, made him feel safe, in this place that was no safer than the streets of deepest London at night.

He felt his muscles unclench and his mind relax. Modred was young, and caring, and sweet. He would be gentle with Merlin, hold him close and whisper sweet nothings, perhaps remain, for a few minutes, in post-coital bliss, allowing merlin to feel wanted, instead of used as he left and exchanged money for the right of having Merlin.

How very wrong he was.

Mordred removed his tie, silk, deep purple, Merlin noted with interest. He was obviously a cut above his usual clients.

He stood to lean over the bed, wrapping the tie firmly around Merlin’s wrists, locking them together. Mordred eyes darkened, becoming shadowed with lust and something else, something like dominance, and power. Too late merlin realised he could not move from his binds, not matter how hard he now tugged.

“please….”

Mordred did not utter a word, his lips forming a smile that sent shivers through him, as he divested his clothes and removed the sheets from Merlin’s form with a sharp pull, throwing them with force to the other side of the room.

Merlin whimpered at the action, eyes darting and pulse raised. At Mordred clearing his throat, Merlin snapped his eyes back to focus on him, a choked sob lodged in his throat at the sight of the blade in Mordred’s hands. It _gleamed_ in the dim light, sinister even without movement.

Merlin was panicking, his mind tumbling over itself trying to escape from what was about to happen. He doubted he could have got through this as high as kite, and the sight of the knife had drained all the lucidity from him, he was shockingly sober and trying desperately not to lose control.

The first mark bloomed across his abdomen, leaving thick red in its wake. The sheer pain it caused shocked his body into action, and he kicked and struggled. But Mordred had anticipated this, and already sat across Merlin’s thighs, his erection thick and straining, and a small amount of precome dribbling from the tip.

The slap across the face rocked Merlin’s head to the side, and he was sure he could feel a redness swelling on his cheek, only slight cooled by the tears slipping from his eyes.

Mordred laughed, deep and full, seeming very pleased with the beginnings of his handiwork. But, he seemed to realise he only had half an hour, so he got quickly to work, sketching bleeding patterns across Merlin’s skin, scratching with nails, forming artful bruises with a closed fist.

Merlin felt himself slipping away, retreating into himself, watching the scene unfold through half lidded glassy eyes. The pain was pulling him out, and up and away, drifting towards unconsciousness, and he welcomed it like an old friend.

..............

Merlin woke, staring up at the sky between the alley walls, gasping and heaving. His pulse was wild and his eyes darted around as it took him time to understand where he was. He was safe, he wasn’t there anymore, it was in the past.

He rolled over onto his knees and vomited, emptying his greasy breakfast onto the cobbled stones. Damn what a waste. He crawled to the far wall, and sagged against it. He was cold and sweaty, and he held his hands out in front of him, watching them tremor with little reaction.

He needed to think about something else, something happy, to calm him. He had very few moments of joy in his life that his mind could provide little and he started grasping at straws, flipping through memories like records in a store. He looked around for inspiration, his eyes alighting on his belongings and his own blade peeking from a fold in his blanket.

It should have given him fear, to know that it could be used for sadist torture; but this one was for protection, to keep him safe. It made him feel safe. His flipping stopped and he pulled a memory out to pursue it further.

Safety. Crooked smiles, companionship, arrogant humour, warmth and comfort.

One memory. One person. One week.

“I’ll find you, I promise”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> text in italics is the memory

He could feel the memory pulling him in, making him forget where he was, the voice of the councillor fading into the background, and it was almost as if he was there again.

After thinking about the hopelessness of his situation, he’d hobbled out of the alley to find somewhere comfortable looking to pass his 24 hours of complete isolation. he’d spied a doorway which contained what had looked like a bundle of blankets, and he’d hurried over as fast as his battered and bruised body could take him, and crouched down to snatch them. A wicked looking knife had suddenly appeared from between two folds, forcing him to jerk upright. A pair of ice blue had eyes followed, practically glowing with hatred. The face they filled was hollow and streaked with dirt, yet startlingly beautiful.

_“Step. The fuck. Away. these are my blankets!! If you want them, you’ll have to pry them from my cold dead body”_

_“woah, woah!! I’m sorry ok! Look i’m not trying to rob you, I got mugged. I’ve lost everything and I just need somewhere to keep warm until my father’s offices are open”_

_The man gave a throaty chuckle “yeah you do look like you’ve been beaten six ways from Sunday” he pursed his lips, eyeing Arthur speculatively “fine, sit yourself down, if you’re not worried about me slitting your throat”_

_He gave him a wry grin “well you’d get nothing from it would you, so I think I’ll take my chances”_

_Arthur parked himself next to him, and he very graciously slung a portion of his dry, albeit filthy blankets across his legs._

_“So what’s your name?”_

_“Merlin, Merlin Emrys”_

_He tried to stifle a chuckle, and Merlin’s eyes narrowed “yeah, ok my mum was a coked up wack job, and my last name is Greek. What’s yours, oh judgemental one?”_

_“Arthur Pendragon”_

_Then it was his turn to laugh. “Arthur Pendragon? The Arthur Pendragon? Are you high?”_

_“I’m serious!!”_

_“Well i suppose you may look a little bit like him, underneath all that blood and dirt, but I still think you’re high. Well, if that’s the name you’re sticking to, I suppose that what I’ll have to call you.”_

They had settled into a comfortable silence and he had glanced across to study merlin. He was beautiful. He’d never thought that about another person before. He thought his father was distinguished, grudgingly of course. The people he slept with were young and fit. But Merlin, Merlin was utterly breath taking. His dark hair was long and matted, curling around his ears and fluttering in his eyelashes. It looked thick, and Arthur thought with a good wash it would feel soft. His eyes seemed large in his gaunt face, but of palest blue with long thick lashes that brushed his cheeks as he looked down. His cheekbones stood out, high and almost feminine, showing how underfed he was. His skin was streaked with dirt, but underneath it looked pale and creamy. His lips were pink and full, and if Arthur was being crude, he thought they would be more suitable on a pornstar. But he was never crude, much.

But there was hurt and pain etched into every line of his face, so from a distance his beauty was hidden. It was only being up close that allowed Arthur to see how stunning he really was, and from the way that Merlin was curled in on himself at his nearness, it seemed that he hadn’t let anyone this close in a long time.

 

****

 

In short, Arthur had been a mess.

His left eye had been bruised and swollen, the purple black skin tight and shiny, causing the lid to be almost fully shut. His nose had been crooked, looking bulbous as if it had more than likely been broken; His lip had been split and the blood from it had painted his chin and neck and the top of his shirt. He had held himself awkwardly, as if there were more broken bones, perhaps his ribs.

He’d hobbled over, looking pained and angry. When Arthur had tried to take his blankets Merlin had been shocked, but some part of him knew it wasn’t malicious. He felt bad for threatening Arthur seeing the surprised look on his face, so he had graciously let him share his warmth.

They had introduced themselves, and Arthur had laughed at his name, not in a cruel taunting way, more that he was highly amused. It had lifted his face, and Merlin had seen how attractive he was, through the blood and bruises; though it had been obvious he had not laughed in a while.

_They sat quietly, though not uncomfortably, and Merlin tried to figure out who this was, and what he was trying to hide. The dice life had rolled for Merlin had made him cynical and cold and he did not believe for a second that this was actually Arthur Pendragon. But it was strange, he didn’t seem like he belonged here, out on the streets, he was too new, too in awe of his surroundings, even if he was nervous, judging by his darting eyes and clenched jaw. It made Merlin feel a sense of protectiveness towards…. whoever he was. He felt wanted, that somebody needed him. Merlin shook himself, he was being stupid; everyone who he’d ever let in, had only ripped him to pieces and not even bothered to look at where the pieces landed as they walked away._

_Merlin’s years on the streets and in the brothel had turned him into the perfect nobody. Removing all traces of distinction from his character helped him to survive, stopped those of the underworld trying to use or hurt him. It also helped that he looked the way he did, smelling like the sewers and being so feral, it kept the everyday populace at arm’s length. The one fault he had, the one he could never get rid of, no matter how hard he tried, was his insatiable curiosity. It got him into trouble. He could feel it doing so again._

_“So what are we going to do to pass the time?”_

_“Eh?”_

_Merlin smirked “Well we can’t very well play scrabble can we? So tell me a little bit about yourself”_

_“Seriously? Well ok then, I’m 23 and 6ft 2, shoe size 10. I live in London, alone. My Father’s an asshole who runs the biggest international company over 2 continents. My mother died giving birth to me. I’m an only child, so naturally a spoilt little shit. I like to drink myself into oblivion on a daily basis…..”_

_Merlin was listening, but everything this guy was saying was stuff he’d read in the days old newspapers he’d use for warmth. Those were things that everyone knew. He could be anybody with that information, all he had to do was be able to read._

_“…….I’m a trust fund brat, so I don’t have a job. I sleep around, a lot, but I never get attached. My father is more bothered about his business than me.” all his breath suddenly left him in a rush and he brought his hands to cover his face._

_“And I feel so alone”_

And there it was. It had shocked Merlin to the core, and it had made him feel a little guilty for his former motive. That someone could be so open, so honest with a complete stranger was new to Merlin, usually people were so closed off, guarded. This man, who he was starting to believe actually was Arthur Pendragon, had let him, Merlin, a messed up young man with no home and little future, see him so vulnerable. It had made him want to help Arthur out of that aching loneliness.

If only he wasn’t so scared of getting hurt. He had thought if he had to go through it one more time, the pieces of his soul would be so damaged, they’d never go back together again.


	6. Chapter 6

When Merlin had asked him to tell him about himself, he’d turned to protest. He really didn’t like telling people shit about his life, it was too personal. It was why he hadn’t spoken at the AA meetings up until now. The newspapers had done enough of that to last him a fucking lifetime. But when he had looked at Merlin, he’d looked so earnest and interested, and here was someone who, for the first time, was interested in Arthur because of him, who had no motive, nothing to gain.

Arthur had opened his mouth before his brain had really had chance to catch up, and he’d started telling merlin everything. Only briefly of course, he wasn’t a complete sap. His mind had been a whirling mass of thoughts and feelings, tumbling over his lips like water. Merlin had sat, calmly listening, not judging him at all. Arthur’s words had just kept coming and coming, faster and faster, he had felt like he couldn’t stop them.

_“And I feel so alone”_

He had clasped his hand over his mouth. He had said too much. Surely Merlin would look at him in confusion, laugh at him or worse. But he had just sat there, looking, well, a bit stunned.

_“I’m so sorry”_

_Arthur tensed up. Fuck! He was going to get pity, he did not want nor did he deserve Merlin’s fucking pity! He thought he was different, thought he might understand._

_“Wait! Let me finish! I don’t pity you, I know you don’t want my pity, I mean I wouldn’t want it.  I know what it’s like, to feel like that, to feel like no one actually sees you, you’re just a pawn in their games, or a piece of meat they can tear strips off and throw the rest back for someone else. I’m not going to sit here and make all those sympathetic noises I’m sure you’ve heard a thousand times before. I want to help you, I want to make it go away, that loneliness, but I mean, look at me, I can’t even keep myself together, let alone help anyone else”_

_Merlin let out a pitiful laugh._

_Arthur would have lashed out, started swearing and pacing, if it had been anyone else. He would have accused Merlin of not knowing, not understanding, would have told him to stay the fuck out it. But Merlin was different. He had no reason to say those things, and yet had said them anyway. He was here, out on the street, with nothing but his words and he’d used them to mend a small fracture in Arthur’s soul. It wasn’t much but it was a start._

_Arthur gave Merlin a watery smile “thank you”_

_Merlin could not, would not realise how much that meant to Arthur, just having someone who cared._

_Merlin answered him with a blinding on of his own. “hey, that’s what I’m here for, I’m a proper little agony aunt, me” he chuckled._

_Merlin paused, his smile fading and his eyes fluttering closed, those long lashes resting on his cheeks. Arthur stared for a few seconds, wondering if he was ok. When they opened again, his eyes were almost luminous and Arthur could feel himself drowning._

_“My dad left when I was born. My mum told me later that it was my fault, that I ruined everything for her. I was so young, I believed her. I did everything I could to try to make her love me; that mostly involved me going out on the streets begging for any spare bit of change so she could buy her next hit of booze or drugs.”_

_“I left when I was 16, thinking I could get a job, get a life, get away from her, her manipulations. But I had very little education, and no qualifications to speak of. My mum had always said I had no business going to school, where people could stick their noses into our business.”_

Arthur had been so stunned. He had offered up something of his own life, and not only had merlin not mocked him, he had understood and what’s more he had started to offer up a piece of himself.

_****_

Merlin had wanted to help him, but he had nothing to give. And he had been so scared to offer anything of himself, in case Arthur had mocked him, or had used it against him somehow. He had tried to explain to Arthur, to apologise for the people that had made him feel that way, to tell him he knew what it was like. He tried to show him, without really showing him, that he had wanted to help, but that he just couldn’t.

_“Thank you”_

Merlin had tried to brush it off, make light of the situation. But Arthur had stared at him in such awe and appreciation, and Merlin had wanted to scream. Stop it! I’m not worth your gratitude, I can’t help you, I can’t give you anything. I’m so messed up; there is nothing of me that you’d want. I can’t save you, because I’m the one that needs saving.

But he had realised he needed to do more, that he wanted to repay Arthur in kind. The only one that could save him was himself.  Deep breaths, he could be brave, he could do this. He could feel the words in his throat, pushing up, trying to get out past his lips. His mind was telling him it would be ok to let someone in, that he could unload his burden, tell the truth just like Arthur had. Arthur wouldn’t hurt him, would he?

The words had travelled past his lips before he was even conscious of their presence. He had started to tell Arthur about his past, all those things that had hurt him, and he had started to feel lighter, more at ease. Arthur’s look of awe had only seemed to increase, along with some emotion Merlin had struggled to identify.

_“I had managed to live on the streets for three years, mainly through begging and sleight of hand. It helped that I was young, and somewhat fresh, I didn’t have stains of despair and that homelessness stench yet. The trouble came at night, in the dark and the cold and the wet. Finding somewhere safe was a rarity, so I would sleep fitfully, starting awake at the slightest noise.”_

_“When they found me, I was desperate. They were mean and street hardened. Oh sure, at first they were sweet and coaxing, making promises they never intended to keep. And I was so tired, I wanted to give up control of my life and just stop caring”_

_“They gave me heroin, at least they said it was, said it was straight cut, the good stuff. It was like I was floating in darkness, but it was warm and comforting, cradling me like a blanket. By the time I’d surfaced, hours later, I was chained to the wall of some dark empty room.”_

_He stuttered and faltered, his words drying up.  He came to with a gasp, the soothing rhythm of his speech broken; bursting the trance he had fallen under with his own words. He’d said too much already. He felt better, lighter, cleaner somehow but the rest was too raw. How could he admit to this man, this relative stranger, that he had been a prostitute, forced to sell his body for someone else’s profit._

_“I…. I can’t….. It’s just too much. I’m sorry”_

Merlin had looked down, trying to push back the tears; he had shown enough weakness already. His hands had clenched in frustration, and his mind had raced over who this man was that could make him do this, say all this, feel like this. He had felt a hand on his thigh, placed there cautiously, then with more purpose.  He had looked up in surprise and his eyes had locked with Arthurs, he had seen the warmth in them, and affection. Arthurs smile had been slight, but had held so much understanding. All in one small gesture.

_“It’s ok, I’m here”_


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur had been strangely proud over Merlin’s confession. He had seen how his hands had twisted in his blankets, restless, uneasy, and his shoulders had had a tremor even though his voice had been even and flowing.

He had known telling his life to someone he barely knew would have consequences. He had been told by many a person over the years that he was too open, too free with his words, that they would get him into trouble one day. He’d always snapped at them, told them they didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about, they were just a bunch of nosy pricks. But over time, it had got to him, burrowed deep into his soul, and he had become closed off and callous in his dealings. Though he was sure that part of that was the drink. Though only partly.

But the only consequence that he had gained then, was equal footing. They had both told the other pieces of their lives, pieces that they most feared and were ashamed of, pieces that had brought them to that very moment. It had been as if they were almost… friends.

Arthur had chuckled quietly to himself. If being in this situation, this chance encounter, didn’t make them friends, nothing would.

On a rash decision, Arthur had thrust his hand towards Merlin, and he had started, cowering back, and his hand had delved beneath his blankets for what Arthur had assumed was his knife.

_“No, no no! I….. I’m not going to hurt you!”_

_Arthur lowered his hand slightly and scrubbed the other through his hair. He pushed a breath out through his nose_

_“Friends?” he said meekly, giving Merlin an almost embarrassed smile._

_Merlin blinked and withdrew his hand slowly from his blankets, his cheeks tinged pink._

_“Sorry, I guess I’m just a bit tetchy”_

_He slowly clasped his hand around Arthur’s, their skin heating where it touched._

_“Friends” Merlin grinned childishly, his eyes sparkling with mirth._

_“What?” Arthur grinned back_

_“hehe… it’s just…. I’ve never had a friend before” the colour on his cheeks deepened and he ducked his head, peeking up at Arthur through his fringe._

_Arthur felt something inside him clench, and he suddenly felt an overwhelming protectiveness towards Merlin. Arthur Pendragon, having feelings?  He was far too sober for this, he couldn’t handle it. He stood abruptly, the blanket falling off of him and pooling around his feet. Merlin squinted up at him, all innocent and confused. He’d known this man for a few hours, and he was already starting to care for him. He really bloody hoped this wouldn’t end badly._

_He strode a few paces out of the doorway, and looked up, his hand shielding his eyes. The sun was just starting to heat the day, casting a glow over the cobbled street, and the shops were beginning to open further down, merchants setting their wares on the pavement for Sunday business. Arthur reckoned it was probably about 9am, which to him meant breakfast._

_He turned back to Merlin, who was still sat in the doorway, looking at him passively_

_“Well, i don’t know about you, but i’m fucking starving” he said reaching into his pocket “come on, i’ll tre....”_

_Shit, he’d forgotten he’d been robbed. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and smiled sheepishly at Merlin_

_“You’d forgotten, hadn’t you?”_

_Arthur bristled and glared at Merlin “No! I hadn’t forgotten! I’ just...” Arthur searched frantically for the lost word._

_Merlin laughed, head thrown back, chuckles emanating from deep within him_

_“I’m only messing, you prat. Come on; let’s see if the Arthur Pendragon, rightful prince of Monmouth industries, can survive on a measly £5 breakfast. And that’s between the two of us” Merlin gave him a smirk, letting him know he was only teasing._

_Arthur liked this change, he was getting to see what Merlin was truly like, under all the baggage he had to deal with on a day to day basis. Damn it, it made him like Merlin even more. What the fuck was the world coming to?_

_“Merlin”_

_“Yes, sire?”_

_“Shut up!”_

_****_

Arthur had offered to buy them breakfast, obviously forgetting at the time that he had been mugged. The look on his face had made Merlin’s heart kick up a faster rhythm, and he knew that though he may not trust Arthur entirely, they were now friends and he could relax slightly in his presence.

He remembered grinning like an utter fool at Arthur’s mention of the word friend. He really truly had never had friend before, funnily enough he had had to spend his time surviving, just keeping his head above water, rather than thinking about luxuries such as companionship.

Merlin had seen that Arthur was proud, and arrogant, by the way he held himself, even though was aching and littered with bruises. He had seen that he was sometimes selfish; by the way he answered Merlin’s questions. But he had also seen he was honest, and open, and kind, offering to buy him breakfast. He had seen that Arthur was just as lost and scared and as much in need of a friend as he himself was.

He had felt comfortable around Arthur, letting himself be more open and vulnerable than he had ever been before.

_“So, your highness, what do you fancy to eat?”_

_“Are you always such a sarcastic git Merlin?” Arthur quipped back_

_“Well, only when it’s this much fun” Merlin smirked at him, finally standing up and stepping out of the doorway. He darted a glance both ways down the street, and seeing that no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to them, he walked quickly down the street, assuming Arthur would follow._

_“Hey! Merlin, slow down!”_

_Merlin flicked a looked over his shoulder “why, can’t you keep up? Sorry, I’m just very used to keeping a low profile, which means walking quickly”_

_Arthur jogged to catch up with Merlin, and they rounded the corner to see a café. The woman at the counter was wiping down the surfaces, and rearranging the cakes in the display cabinet. She walked around the counter to the door, and flipped the sign from closed to open. She went to turn back towards the counter, but stopped, hunkering down to stare suspiciously at them through the glass._

_“oh”_

_Merlin stopped abruptly and placed his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, turning them to face each other. He raised an eyebrow in askance._

_Arthur looked down at himself. “oh, yeah”_

_“so, which one of us looks less gruesome? We want to get served not arrested”_

_Arthur pursed his lips speculatively “well you stink like you’ve rolled around in pig shit, no offence”_

_Merlin raised an eyebrow “gee thanks. Well you look like you’ve been hit by the backside of a bus, so I think being a bit whiffy is probably the better option”_

_Without waiting for an answer, Merlin walked into the café and ordered 2 cups of tea and 2 bacon sandwiches._

_The woman didn’t comment on his appearance, but gave him a disgusted look. “That’s £5.60”_

_“Ah. Look I’m really sorry, I’ve only got £5 on me, please can you let me off the 60p?”_

_“Sorry, it’s £5.60”_

_Merlin practically glowered at her. “Fine, if you take one of the teas off, then have I got enough?”_

_“Yeah that’s £4.70”_

_Merlin flung the money on the counter and tapped his foot impatiently. The woman handed him the sandwiches and the tea and passed him his change with an equally rough hand, and eyed him all the way out of the door._

_Merlin muttered and scoffed on his way to where Arthur was lounging against a wall. “Sorry, this is all I could get”_

_“S’alright, I’d eat squirrel right now if I was quick enough to catch one, I’m that hungry”_

_Merlin passed Arthur a sandwich and they both greedily scarfed down the food and took turns to drink the tea until it was empty._

_“Well what are we going to do for food for the rest of the day now?” Arthur almost pouted_

_Merlin rose his eyebrows suggestively “well Arthur, I’m going to have to teach you something new”_

_Merlin leaned towards him, putting a mere inch between them, his warm breath washing over Arthur’s face. His eyes darted quickly, taking in Arthur’s flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, and a smile played around his lips._

_“I’m going to teach you how to steal”_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As they had had breakfast, Arthur had felt something twinge inside him. He had thought it was his fucking feelings again, but when he had put a hand to his ribs, pain had flared outwards from the spot, and he had realised he was far more physically injured than his bruised ego had allowed him to believe.

He had thought that resting in the doorway with Merlin would have done him some good. Being the arrogant sod he always was, he had believed that passing out from the ass kicking those guys had given wasn’t that bad. He was still here, walking, well alright, hobbling around wasn’t he? But apparently it hadn’t worked like that.

He really should have gone to a hospital to get sorted out. Should have gone to the police to get help, get off the street, but that would have meant getting away from Merlin, and though he would never admit it to any living soul, he found the other man fascinating.  His presence had acted like a balm, making him forget about the agony he was in, soothing all the aches and pains until they were just a dull throbbing at the back of his mind.

As soon as he had stopped to eat they had all come hastening back, but he had pushed them away with visible effort.  Merlin had frowned at him, concerned, before he had rushed in with a question to stop him from worrying. After all he had wanted to know everything about Merlin, and he couldn’t do that if he was in hospital.

_“Well what are we going to do for food for the rest of the day now?” Arthur almost pouted_

_Merlin rose his eyebrows suggestively “well Arthur, I’m going to have to teach you something new”_

_Merlin leaned towards him, putting a mere inch between them, his warm breath washing over Arthur’s face. His eyes darted quickly, taking in Arthur’s flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, and a smile played around his lips._

_“I’m going to teach you how to steal”_

_Arthur let out a breath and took a step back from Merlin, putting an acceptable distance between them. He raised his eyebrow sceptically “seriously? That’s how we’re going to feed ourselves?”_

_“Well unless you can perform magic, then that’s the only way we are going to be able to feed ourselves”_

_Arthur gave a deep chuckle, the vibrations in his chest causing him to wince. Merlin’s eye narrowed and darted across the expanse of Arthurs body_

_“You’re hurting”_

_Merlin closed the distance between them again, and slowly raised a hand to Arthurs face. He cupped Arthur’s cheek carefully around the bruises, his palm rough but cool, soothing against the aches that Merlin’s attention had brought back into focus._

_Arthurs face heated at the contact and he almost subconsciously leaned into the touch. It had been so long since someone had cared about him that he felt like he might start crying. This man messed with his emotions easier than a Nicholas sparks novel. But of course, he had never read one of those._

_He looked into Merlin’s eyes, seeing the concern and tenderness and something altogether more real and permanent. His insides clenched in response and it was not his injuries._

_He pressed his fingertips to the back of Merlin’s hand, letting him know he appreciated his concern and gave him a small smile. He shook his head slightly, dislodging Merlin’s hand and shrugged his shoulders_

_“It’s nothing”_

_****_

After they had eaten, Arthur had looked, well awful. The skin under his bruises had looked pale and waxy. Sweat had beaded on his forehead and his eyes had been dull and had looked pinched around the edges. Merlin had seen he was trying to hide his pain, pulling his strength and confidence around him like armour, but Merlin didn’t think Arthur knew his body was giving him away.

Merlin had tried to talk to him about it, but Arthur had quickly interrupted him, his eyes darting everywhere but to Merlin. His pride was obviously keeping him from showing how much pain he was in. Merlin had carried on talking; Arthur seemed grateful and had given a deep chuckle at his words.

Arthur had winced, and tried to hide it, but badly, and Merlin had seen it. He was all for keeping someone’s dignity around relative strangers, but Arthur was now his friend, and he was hurting.

Merlin had soothed him, placing a hand gently on his cheek, and all the bravado seemed to drain from him. His eyes leeched of all light, and Arthur had just looked tired, and scared, and in pain. He had leaned into Merlin’s hand and he had been surprised at how easily Arthur had given up control. It made Merlin feel that maybe this sort-of friendship wasn’t completely one sided.

Arthur had pressed his fingers to the back of Merlin’s hand, and had given him a small smile.

_“It’s nothing”_

_“well at least let me get you something to help… or find someone who can help you”_

_“no!” Arthur almost shouted at Merlin “look… I’ll be fine. I just need to sit down for a bit” Arthur ducked his head slightly and mumbled something._

_Merlin leant down so he could look up into Arthurs face “what?”_

_Arthur sighed and his lips quirked up at Merlins tenacity “I said, I’m not sure I want to leave you, because I may never see you again”_

_“I’m not going anywhere. But you need to sit down”_

_Merlin turned so he was standing next to Arthur and gently pulled his arm over his shoulders. Merlin snaked an arm around his waist, to take Arthurs weight. They slowly walked back to the doorway in which they had been sat. Merlin carefully lowered Arthur onto the blankets and rearranged them around him._

_He eased himself beside him and glanced over to check that Arthur was ok. Arthur had seemed so strong, like his injuries were merely paintings blooming a wall, like they didn’t hurt him. Then all of a sudden his thinly held control had shattered, and it seemed like Merlin’s attention had shattered it. Sometimes you need someone to pick up the pieces of your broken self, and sometimes you need to be strong enough go find that person. It looked like Arthur had chosen Merlin_

_Merlin had to help him. He jumped up and frantically scanned the street. The doorway in which they were sat lead onto a fairly busy street, and at this time of the day it was packed with Sunday shoppers. That must mean someone can help them…. him, Arthur._

_“Stay here, I’m going to get some help. I’ll come back for you”_


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur had watched Merlin jog quickly down the crowded street, weaving in-between people with such ease that showed years of practice. He had sat, feeling restless, drumming his fingers on the door frame, peering in vain for any sign of his return.  Arthur had felt like hours had passed, as the pain ebbed and waned, making every second without Merlin more brutal.

He had had no way of telling the time, and as the sun had been high in the sky, the only thing he had known was that it was day time. He wasn’t a fucking navigator.  

_“Stay here, I’m going to get some help. I’ll come back for you”_

_Arthur watched Merlin until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. He wouldn’t be long surely?_

_\- - - -_

_Arthur’s hands twitched continuously, the rhythm helping him count the moments. Clench, flex, clench, flex. Each movement sent a spark of pain through his body. How in the hell had he not noticed this before? It was like Merlin was his own special brand of novocaine. The more distance that was put between them, the worse he felt._

_Arthur was sure it was actually just his mind playing tricks on him; after all, who was this man to him, really? Someone who actually cares a hell of a lot about you it seems, his heart whispered. He shook head frantically to clear the thought, but his heart still beat a constant tempo, telling him what he wasn’t ready to hear. He clenched his fingers in his hair, digging his nails into his scalp. It drew the pain to a blinding centre, making his head pound and darkness lick at the edges of his vision._

_He pulled his hands from his head and pushed a long breath out from between pursed lips. The pain stopped the confessions leaking out, stopped the train of feelings barrelling through his heart and mind at 90 mph, but damn did the pain hurt. Funny that._

_“What the fuck is taking him so long?” Arthur thought. He may still be emotional stunted and so not ready to deal with whatever the thing between him and Merlin was, but he’d realised he needed Merlin, and Merlin wasn’t there._

_He peered out onto the street once more, straining to catch a glimpse of dark hair over the crowd, and froze. He screwed up his eyes, trying to slot the image he was seeing with what his mind was refusing to believe._

_Surely it wasn’t them? He shaded his eyes against the sun to get a clearer picture of the group of men standing across the road. His heart faltered in its tempo and his stomach twisted painfully, for he was sure it was them. They were the group of men that had beaten the crap out of him, and if they weren’t, hell they sure looked exactly the same._

_All at once his forehead broke out into a cold sweat, small beads trickling slowly down the side of his hand that was still quivering above his eyebrows. His throat felt tight, his breath escaping in short sharp pants and his heart was beating fast, the blood pumping loudly in his ears._

_“Shit. Shit, shit, shit” Arthur murmured to himself. Luckily they hadn’t spotted him yet, and he was sure they wouldn’t recognise him, not with the state they had put him in. Hopefully they wouldn’t recognise him. He could feel the back of his shirt was damp, clinging to him uncomfortably._

_He didn’t know what to do._

_He shifted slightly, and something metallic scraped along the ground beneath the blanket. He pulled his hand away from his brow and fumbled around underneath the folds, looking for the source of the noise. His thumb nicked something sharp, and he quickly pulled his hand out, sticking his thumb in his mouth, sucking it hard to remove the drop of blood that welled there. Carefully with his other hand, he reached down, delving under the blanket , slowly feeling with trembling fingertips. They came into contact with something smooth, and his hand curled around it, instantly realising what it must be.  He tightened his grip, and pulled Merlin’s knife smoothly out, resting the flat of the blade across his legs._

_His grip shook, and his heart thundered. His shirt was now thoroughly moulded to him, his sweat, warm and sticky. But the knife brought calm to his mind, stilling the panic that had threatened to consume him when he had seen the men. It was like a little piece of Merlin was there, helping him._

_He heard footsteps thundering towards him, and tightened his hold on the knife, his knuckles white as the skin stretched over bone. He raised his eyes slowly, trying to calm his breathing, and praying that he wasn’t going to get his ass handed to him again, because he wasn’t sure he would wake up this time._

_“Arthur?”_

_All the air in his lungs left him in a rush as he looked up into Merlin’s worried face, and he gave him an uncertain smile. He flicked his gaze over Merlin’s shoulder to the man dressed in a police uniform and he wasn’t sure what to feel. Relief? That his injuries would soon get treated. Affection? That Merlin would seek help from a policeman even though he so obviously did not trust people. Or frankly terrified? That he might be made to leave him, alone._

_He settled for expressing gratitude, and dealing with the rest as it came._

_“Thank god you’re back”_

_*****_

Merlin had moved swiftly down the street, weaving in between the shoppers with grace. He had scanned the faces of the crowds quickly, with practice, but not for what he could physically take, but for someone who had looked forgiving, someone who would help. He paused, scanning a second time, more slowly. It had been hard; it had meant he had to actually pay attention to them as people, rather than his own personal cash cow.

But he had pulled in a deep breath, as he had remembered Arthur needed him. Arthur, who was back there, in pain, needed Merlin to help him. Someone needed Merlin, and for once in his life that meant  Merlin needed to rely on someone else.

_There. There was a woman, she looked kind. But no, she was towing a small child with her, who was crying and screaming, and she turned round to snap at the child and pull more forcefully on his hand. He couldn’t ask her, she’d probably bite his head off._

_He turned around, looking back the way he had come. There was a man in a suit walking towards him, the kind of person that could usually “spare” a few valuables for him. He looked friendly enough, Merlin stepped towards him, opening his mouth to speak, when the man started to root through his pockets, and pulled out a ringing mobile. He slid his finger across the screen and pressed it to his ear, answering with a terse greeting .Damn, he’d missed his chance._

_He turned back, carrying on walking down the street, and saw a young couple walking slowly, hand in hand, smiling and talking. Merlin felt a rush of relief, surely they would help him! He walked quickly towards them, and they looked up at him, the man’s brow furrowing and he steered his girlfriend quickly away, looking back repeatedly at Merlin, like he was going to try to steal from them._

_Merlin stopped abruptly and scowled at them. “Urgh! Why was this so hard!” he thought._

_He had spent most of his adult life around people, but they had always been mere shadows, not even leaving an impression. He could use charm and manners, he could use and manipulate people for his own means, but he had never had to trust anyone. He had never wanted to. People let him down, and the only person he could rely on, was himself._

_Then Arthur had literally come stumbling into his life, effectively ruining that theory. It may be for the better, but he wasn’t quite sure at the moment. He was starting to trust Arthur, and he thought Arthur was starting to trust him back, but trusting people who had always shunned him? He was terrified._

_He was going to have to go to the police. He was still wary of authority, even if it was years since he had lived with his scheming mother. He knew exactly where the station was, he’d spent his years on the streets actively avoiding it, god, he felt like a lamb to the slaughter. No, stop, this was for Arthur, he could do this, to help him._

_He clenched his fists and all but marched through the crowds, watching emotionlessly as people veered out of his way, looks ranging from curious to shocked. He knew he probably look scary, but if he stopped even for a second, his resolve to help would falter and he’d run, like the selfish person he was and he would end up leaving Arthur in his pain._

_The Police station appeared on the left of the street, and he strode straight up the stairs and through the main door, only stopping when he reached the main desk. He stared determinedly at the officer behind the counter, who simply raised an eyebrow at him and asked in a bored tone of voice_

_“Can I help you?”_

_Merlin closed his eyes and breathed slowly, he needed to be nice to these people if he wanted their help._

_“Yes, ermm… my, ah, friend, he’s hurt, really badly. He got beaten up this morning sometime, and now it’s getting worse, he can’t move.”_

_“Ok and where is he?”_

_“Just down the street”_

_“And could you describe who did it?”_

_“No I wasn’t there” Merlin gritted his teeth; all these questions were talking too long. Arthur could be getting worse, he could have internal bleeding or he could have passed out! “Please, could one of your officers come with me to him, and just help us?”_

_“Of course, if you’ll wait just one moment I will see which of our officers are free. Please take a seat”_

_Merlin turned and collapsed heavily into one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the side of the room. There wasn’t time for this, but there wasn’t anyone else he could turn to. So he sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands clenched in his hair, and counted backwards from 100. He prayed to god that someone would be ready to help him by then; he was agitated enough as it was._

_He’d just reached 36 when someone laid a hand on his shoulder_

_“sir? I’m officer Elyan. Are you ready to go and find your friend?”_

_Merlin jumped up quickly. “Yes. Follow me” He almost ran out of the station, just hoping officer Elyan was following._

_He jogged down the street, threading between the shoppers and checking over his shoulder occasionally to see the officer was still there. He slowed his steps as he reached the doorway where Arthur was sat, and saw he that he looked nervous and tense._

_“Arthur”_

_Arthur had his hands clenched around the handle of Merlin’s knife, his grip white. He raised his eyes to Merlin’s face and all he could see in their depths was panic._

_“Thank god you’re back”_


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur had waited patiently, well alright not exactly patiently for Merlin to return. He had seen the men that had attacked him, and he had panicked, drawing Merlin’s knife to protect him. Though in hindsight, it was probably the worst mistake he had ever made.

_“Thank god you’re back”_

Merlin had looked worried and concerned, and he had crouched down at Arthur’s side, reaching out to place his hand over Arthur’s wrist, his thumb stroking the skin, trying to get Arthur to loosen his grip on the knife’s handle.

Arthur had looked into Merlin’s eyes, and had seen the unspoken plea to hide the knife, the worry for his own safety as well as Arthurs. He had slowly prised his fingers loose and Merlin had pulled the knife away, stashing it quickly back beneath his blankets. Merlin had checked over his shoulder to see if the officer had noticed. Officer Elyan had frowned at them both, but had seemed brush it aside. He had leaned down to speak to Arthur.

_“Sir? Can you tell me your name?”_

_“I’m Arthur, Arthur Pendragon, and this is my friend Merlin Emrys”_

_The officer raised his eyebrows sceptically at the mention of Arthurs name, but didn’t comment on it. “My name is officer Elyan, I’m here to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”_

_“Well, I was leaving Ealdor, the gay club in south London? And I was walking, well probably more like stumbling, I was pretty drunk, trying to find a taxi to take me home. I don’t know how far I’d walked before I realised there was a group of men following me…”_

_Arthur stuttered over his words and swallowed, trying to calm himself. He looked across the street to see if the men were still there. Yep, they were still loitering by the wall, paying him no attention. Though they were looking curiously at officer Elyan._

_“a group of men started saying shit about me, so I turned around to confront them, and that’s when they attacked me” His voice got rougher as the anger and panic inside him came out in his words._

_“I think that’s them over there” Arthur said quietly, motioning his head towards the other side of the street._

_Officer Elyan turned around and gave the men a hard glance. He pulled his radio out of his breast pocket and spoke several rushed words quietly into it. He turned back to Arthur and Merlin._

_“I’ve radioed back to the station to have some of the officer’s talk to those gentlemen. For now, I’m going to call an ambulance for you” He reached down to his trouser pocket._

_“NO!” Arthur flung out a hand, motioning for the officer to stop._

_“Mr Pendragon? You need to get to hospital, you’re badly hurt. Please try to stay calm; you don’t want to make yourself any worse.”_

_Merlin frowned at him, and sat down next to Arthur, shuffling close, so his side was pressed against Arthurs, shoulder to thigh._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?” Merlin shoved Arthur with his shoulder lightly._

_Arthur sighed. “It’s just…. Fuck I can’t believe I’m going to say this… ah, look, I really care about you. I know we’ve only known each other for like a few hours, but I feel like you understand me, you know? I think you’ve been through some tough situations, even worse than mine, and… I don’t want to leave you here alone, because, shit, you deserve better than this. I want you to come with me”_

_Merlin just sat there, unblinking, breathing quietly._

_“Merlin, please….. say something” Arthur held his breath. He had pretty much just opened his heart to Merlin, his friend of just a few hours. He’d stepped up and told him how he cared for him, how he wanted to help him and needed him by his side. But that couldn’t happen if Merlin wasn’t willing to make an equal step of his own, and meet Arthur in the middle of this very new territory_

_Urgh, why did feelings have to be so complicated?_

_****_

_“Merlin, please…… say something”_

Arthur had told Merlin how much he cared for him, and that he wanted to help, and it had almost felt like he was reaching down to pull Merlin up, to take him into the light, almost like karma was rewarding Merlin for all the heartache and struggle he’d had to deal with. He had honestly just not known what to say to Arthur, how to express himself. Everything he felt for Arthur was just a bit too well, big to say out loud. If the words had escaped his mouth, they would have become solid, real. Merlin’s long ingrained sense of keeping to himself had meant he had been too scared to say to Arthur that he felt exactly the same.

Although, he had tried his best.

_Merlin sat there for the longest time, and Arthur had looked like he was about to bolt, his eyes were darting everywhere but to Merlin and his fingers were twitching constantly._

_Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but his throat felt incredibly dry. Arthur must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, as he looked straight at Merlin. He just looked lost. Merlin’s gaze flickered down and rested in his lap, but he could still feel Arthurs stare burning into him. He nervously reached out and clasped Arthurs restless hands in his, feeling their dampness and heat. He watched their hands, the dirt and callouses of his a sharp contrast to Arthur’s smooth slender ones._

_He spoke quietly, but he knew Arthur could hear him “I’m coming with you, for as long you can stand to have me, I’ll be at your side.”_

_They heard the sounds of a heated argument and Merlin looked up to see that there was now a group of officers across the street talking to the group of men Arthur had indicated, and it looked as though it was getting quite intense. One of the men shouted loudly and gestured threateningly towards the policemen. Arthur flinched at Merlin’s side, and Merlin gripped his hands tighter, trying to give him some reassurance._

_Officer Elyan cleared his throat, trying to gain both of their attentions. “The ambulance is just at the end of the street. It cannot get down here with all the shoppers, so the paramedics are bringing a stretcher for you” He turned to look up the street and gave a slight wave to the man and the woman who were trying to pass through the crowds with a stretcher._

_Officer Elyan turned to Merlin “Mr Emrys, if you would step aside a moment, I need to ask you a few questions”_

_Merlin felt Arthur tense. “Why?” he asked, looking between Merlin and officer Elyan frantically. Merlin gave Arthurs hands a final squeeze before he released them and stood, giving officer Elyan a brief nod._

_He turned and smiled down at Arthur, “don’t worry, I’m coming back, you can’t get rid me that easily, prat” he hoped some humour would help calm Arthurs fears. The paramedics arrived at that moment, and set the stretcher between the two of them._

_The female paramedic knelt down beside Arthur. “My name is Gwen, and this is my colleague Gwaine. Can you tell us where you’re hurt?”_

_Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to find officer Elyan leading him a short way down the street. He kept glancing back to check on Arthur, and he saw the paramedics where strapping him on to a stretcher. He must have been more hurt than either of them had realised._

_“Mr Emrys, firstly I want to ask you if you know if that is the real Arthur Pendragon. We have had no reports of him being missing.”_

_“Well, I only just met him this morning” Merlin was reluctant to explain his situation to a policeman. “I was sceptical at first, as he seems so different from the Arthur Pendragon in the papers, but I dunno, he seems so vulnerable and honest, so if that’s who he says he is, I believe him.”_

_Officer Elyan gave a firm nod, as if agreeing with Merlin’s statement. Then in the blink of an eye, he reached out and clamped his hand around Merlin’s arm. Merlin looked at him, bewildered, his body tensing at the subtle threat in the grip._

_“I’m sorry to have to do this, but it’s my job. Merlin Emrys, you are under arrest for the possession of an illegal weapon. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say can and will be used in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense”_

_The knife! This god damn self-righteous policeman had noticed it, and now he was getting punished for it. For gods sake, this is why he never trusted authority._

_He felt his arms being twisted behind his back, and the cold bite of the metal handcuffs against his wrists. He pulled and twisted, trying to get to Arthur, to keep them together, to get them away from this living nightmare, but it was no use._

_“ARTHUR!!”_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a request i took the italics out, to make it easier to read. If anyone else thinks its better without, please let me know, and i'll take all the italics out of the story.

“ARTHUR!”

Arthur had heard Merlin scream his name, and he had whipped his head up, trying to see over Gwen. He had just been able Merlin struggling against officer Elyan, and had tried to push himself off the stretcher. But he had forgotten he was fucking strapped down. He had twisted viciously, with his head hitting against the stretcher repeatedly as he had tried to struggle free. Merlin was obviously in trouble, and Arthur couldn’t help him. Gwen had put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him firmly back down onto the stretcher.

“Sir, please stay calm or we will have to sedate you” Gwaine threw both of his arms across Arthur’s thighs, in an attempt to restrain him.

He could feel the pain licking at his senses, trying to push its way to the front of his thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it. He relaxed his body, and Gwen took her hand from his shoulder and continued to check him over, her fingers skimming lightly over his ribs, but Gwaine’s arms still stayed firmly pressed across his legs.

“ARTHUR!”

Merlin had cried out again, and Arthur had tried to bolt upright, the straps across his body going taught. Gwaine had pressed down harder, and Arthur had got desperate, fixing Gwaine with a chilling stare.

“Let. Go. Of .Me. NOW”

Gwaine just looked at him; brows furrowed, as if trying to work out why Arthur was so angry, as if trying to read the words Merlin had painted on his soul, then gave him a small grin.

“Sorry mate, any other day, that would have had me wetting myself, cause to be honest, you look like you could beat the crap out of me. But, if you hadn’t noticed you’re strapped down.”  He raised an eyebrow and his grin widened. Gwaine slowly moved his arms away, palms flat out, obviously ready to pin Arthur down again if he was going to be difficult.

“Now are you going to lie still?” Arthur just scowled at him. Gwaine gave him a pat on the leg. “Don’t worry, you shouldn’t be in hospital for more than a few days, and I’m sure your friend with come visit you”

Arthur just scowled a hell of a lot harder. Was this guy fucking serious? He was wasn’t he? He was bloody oblivious, his friend was screaming his name, screaming for his help, and this guy was just sat here fucking patting his leg like he was some lame horse.

“Listen, you fucking idiot! My friend is in trouble! Can’t you bloody see! So don’t try to get me to calm down!” Arthur roared at Gwaine.

Gwen startled backwards, her hands jumping from their assessment. Gwaine’s jaw tightened, and his eyes went cold and hard, and he turned swiftly away from Arthur. He moved over to Gwen and they both murmured to each other, heads bent, ignoring him. He growled, and ignored them in turn.

“Let me go! For god’s sake it’s not mine! Officer, please!”

Arthur tried to twist his head to the sound of Merlin’s voice, closer than before, but he felt a sharp sting in the crease of his elbow. He looked down and saw a needle piercing the skin, and he raised his eyes, following the hand that pushed to plunger up to its owner.

Gwen gave him just a small twitch of her lips, her eyes looking wary but sad. “I’m sorry. It’s for your own good.”

He heard footsteps coming closer still, and then a scuffle of feet by his head. His vision dimmed and his focus grew blurry as he looked up. Merlin was pushing back against officer Elyan as he tried to move him along, back towards the way they had come, back towards the station.

Arthur’s eyes flashed to Merlin’s wrists, clasped behind his back in handcuffs. There was no time to say what he wanted to, to ask what had happened, to help. It was all happening so fast, and he was too late.

As the blackness closed in, Arthur locked his gaze with Merlin’s. He saw the fear in the ice blue, and he tried to show Merlin all that he didn’t have time to say.

Merlin stared back, looking more and more terrified. Officer Elyan gave Merlin a hard shove, and he stumbled forward, moving further away from Arthur.

As the dark covered the last of his sight, Arthur cried out.

“I’ll find you, I promise!”

 * * * *

Officer Elyan had held Merlin in check as he struggled against the handcuffs, the cold metal had rubbed against his wrists, had left dull red lines slashed across the pale skin.

He had pressed Merlin’s hands up into the small of his back, giving him no choice but to walk. He had shuffled slowly, fighting the officer every step of the way, fighting to stay closer to Arthur.

“ARTHUR!”

He had cried out a second time, trying to see Arthur beyond the paramedics who were crouched around him. Merlin had slowed, and twisted to the side, unnoticed by officer Elyan, and as he had tried to push Merlin forward, they had stumbled and fallen. Merlin had landed hard, pain shooting up his side, but he could see Arthur, strapped down, scowling at the paramedic, Gwaine. He had heard Arthurs voice, leached of all warmth, as he had threatened him. Arthur’s face had been laced with fury and Merlin had felt an answering fury rise in his own. Though he had not seen his face, Merlin had seen Gwaine’s shoulders tighten as he turned away from Arthur and towards Gwen.

Officer Elyan had pulled him roughly to his feet, and he had felt a dull throbbing in his foot, meaning he had to walk slowly, even with Elyan forcing him forwards. Perfect. Yet every step was taking him closer to Arthur, and yet further away. Every step was a step closer to the end of everything.

“Let me go! For god’s sake it’s not mine! Officer, please!”

He dragged his feet, making his steps slower and slower, until he a shuffle of feet let him look down upon Arthur. He pushed against officer Elyan as he tried to move him on, and in that second he took in the needle in Arthur’s arm and his eyes widened in fear. He stared into Arthurs eyes, trying in vain to cover how scared he was.

Officer Elyan pushed him forwards, and he lurched past Arthur, only just managing to keep his feet under him. He craned his neck back over his shoulder, trying to keep Arthur in his sights. The further he was forced to walk the harder it was to see Arthur. Merlin was terrified this would be the last time he would see him. As Merlin strained his neck for a final glimpse of Arthur, he heard him cry out.

“I’ll find you, I promise!”

Merlin felt tears sting the corner of his eyes, and his whole body sagged as he let officer Elyan lead him meekly to the station. His head felt heavy on his shoulders, as if all the emotions he had kept welled up were suddenly bearing down on him, too much to cope. He closed his eyes and let his head sag forwards, cool teardrops running down his face and dripping off the end of his nose. He felt officer Elyan manoeuvre him up the station steps, and Merlin blinked his eyes open, watching the tiles of the reception retreat under his shoes. Black, white, black, white, black, white. He heard a cell door swing open and he was unceremoniously hauled inside. He shuffled listlessly to the nearest wall. Officer Elyan paused, and Merlin could feel his eyes on him, but he never once looked up. The officer sighed and the sounds of his footsteps faded as he left the cell. The door clanged shut as Merlin slid slowly down the cell wall. His body curled in on itself, broken and weak, knees to his chest, face tucked in tight as he sat there and howled.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Arthur's POV

The darkness was close and complete. Arthur stretched out a hand and wiggled his fingers, but his eyes registered nothing. Every sound he made was muffled, deadened by the dark. Yet he wasn’t scared, it felt warm and comforting, like a friend.

He turned slowly, but there was nothing. He walked several careful paces, but there was no sense of distance, there was nothing to tell him if he was walking miles, or treading on the spot. He stopped and sat down, all of a sudden feeling tired and weary. His lids felt heavy, and he let them close over drooping eyes.

He saw a blurry image, of bright lights and many faces towering over him.

His eyes sprang open. The darkness was still there, but lighter, more the blue of the sky before dawn, and less thick, as if it was melting away before his eyes.  He reached out to touch it, and fuck, he could see his hand, but the blue dissolved like mist, leaving only a luminous white that hurt his eyes. Nope, he did not like this, he had no idea what was going on, and frankly, it scared him. He panicked, taking deep heaving breaths, and squeezed his eyes shut once again.

The bright lights and faces were clearer, and Arthur blinked several times to clear them away, but they remained solid. He tried to raise his arms to rub at his eyes, but they felt heavy and sluggish, and he could feel the strain in his muscles and bones. Sweat beaded out on his forehead, and he clenched his teeth, but It was no use. He sagged back down onto the uncomfortable white sheets.

White sheets? He looked down at himself and he raised an eyebrow in askance. He was covered in starched covers, tucked tightly around his body. His arms looked pale and feeble, and protruding grotesquely from the crease of his left elbow was a needle connected to a multitude of tubes, filled with clear fluid. A slow consistent beep played in the background of the otherwise silent room. He looked up and he could see, between the faces, a door and a row of windows that looked out onto a line of sleeping people in similar states as him, dressed in the standard cheap hospital gowns.

Ah. He was in the hospital then.

And suddenly everything that had happened over the past day came flooding back, all the emotions and turmoil hitting him, and he sat bolt upright with a gasp. A few of the people in the room took a hasty step back, and others rushed forward. As he drew his focus to their faces, he heard the monitor beep faster, and a painful pinch in his right arm, as one of the nurse crowded around him punctured him with a needle. He felt a sense of sluggishness creeping through his veins and his eyelids closed against his will.

************

The second time Arthur awoke, the serene darkness faded a lot faster, and he had a better grasp of where he was. He took his time to open his eyes though, to let them know he was awake and aware, so he could gather his thoughts. He was in a hospital. Check. Merlin had been arrested, and he had no fucking idea where he was. Check. He didn’t even know if it was still Sunday.

Arthur took a deep breath, and made a small stirring like he was just coming out of his deep anaesthesia induced sleep. He fluttered his eye lids sleepily, and remained as calm as possible, so he would be allowed to stay awake by the nurse checking his charts at the foot of his bed.

“He’s awake, leave us now” said a commanding voice from the corner of the room. The nurse nodded slightly at the sound and scurried out. Arthur groaned internally.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur managed to rasp. His throat felt dry and scratchy. Unused.

“Now darling, is that any way to treat me after I’ve come to see my poor injured brother?” Morgana gave a mock pout.

“Half-brother” Arthur would never class that poisonous witch as his full sibling. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Well, let’s see….” Morgana started to slowly count on her fingers, her long blood red nails perfectly shaped and polished. “Well, if you count Sunday, and Monday...” Arthur ground his teeth. He must not shout at her. “And today is Tuesday, then three days”

Three. Fucking. Days.

“THREE FUCKING DAYS?!?” He tried to shout at her, but his throat burned. He gave a wracking cough that made his head pound and his muscles ache.

“Arthur, please”

She stood from her chair and crossed to his bed side to pour him a glass of water. She gently cradled the back of his head and raised the glass to his lips. Arthur glared at her while he drank. Morgana just smirked.

He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and demand that she tell him where Merlin was and what the bloody hell was going on. He felt so lost and disorientated. She turned away from him to place the cup back on the dresser. He opened his mouth to speak, to question her frantically, but she threw up a hand in front of his face without even turning around. He scowled at the perfectly smooth palm.

“Now, now big brother, don’t scowl too hard, you could do yourself an injury. Or another one I suppose” She walked back to her chair, and perched neatly on the edge, her lips pursed in distaste at the obvious lack of quality she was sat on. “Father sent me; he had had a call from the hospital when they had finally managed to ascertain who you were. I had to get the private jet to bring me here, father had already given the helicopter to one of his business partners for their personal use” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they had you set up out there with all the other people, like you were just anybody! I immediately got you placed somewhere more suitable, though not without a generous donation for a new wing of the hospital”

Arthur’s jaw was so tensed; he was surprised his half-sister could not hear the bones creaking. She was 5 years younger than him, but she acted like she had seen everything and it was all so beneath her. He just wanted to scream at her to shut up, to think about the more important things, like where the hell was Merlin?

Though he knew from painful experience, that if he showed a desperate need for anything, then Morgana would make sure it would always elude him. He kept his jaw tensed and his teeth gritted.

“Father does send his apologies, he’s in the middle of an important merger,” Arthur sighed, why he had expected the man to change now he’d never know, “but he says he’s signed you up to an inconspicuous alcoholics meeting, we wouldn’t want the press to get wind of any more of your failures now would we” She raised an eyebrow.

“He wanted to wash his hands of you completely, and let the police deal with any of your future misgivings, but I managed to persuade him that that would reflect badly on him, so a meeting was the better option.” She smiled dangerously. “Though if you do not attend, I will not stand in his way if he has you arrested.”

Arthur growled softly. That bitch, she knew exactly which buttons of his to press. He prayed to any and every fucking deity there was that she would leave soon. He needed to find Merlin. He repeated it himself like a sacred mantra, hoping it would keep him from doing something stupid, something that would probably involve using supreme effort to get up and clamp Morgana’s jaw shut.

“He has asked me to personally make sure you DO attend them. I’m sure father would be awfully disappointed if I let you slip back into your little habit.” Her smile turned sardonic. “ I would stay at the Hilton, as I am sure they have far better facilities than you. Unfortunately no sum of money could cause them to find me a free room at this short notice. So I suppose your house will have to do”

Of fucking course.

“Breath Arthur” he thought almost viciously. “Got to find Merlin, got to find Merlin. Got. To. Find. Merlin.”

“You are to be discharged today, the nurse told me while you were asleep. I will wait around the front with the car at 4pm” She glanced at the clock, which read 2.45. She stood abruptly, dusted imaginary dirt off her immaculate black suit, and swept out of the room before Arthur even had chance to raise his voice in protest.

He had revered that moment with a special sort of hatred. His Father was still incredibly absent, as always, and Morgana was still a pretentious bitch, as always. He had lost Merlin, and he no idea how to get him back.

Morgana had ushered him out of the hospital and to his home, so quickly that the press hadn’t managed to catch wind of his scandal. Even so, she had made Arthur wear dark sunglasses and a baseball cap, as if he was famous and couldn’t dare be seen coming out of a hospital.

 She had then proceeded to spend the week watching his every move like a hawk. He had asked repeatedly if she knew anything about the dark haired boy that had been arrested at the time he was taken to hospital. The most he had gotten out of her was a derisive shrug and her claim that she had no idea what he was talking about.  He had rang the hospital, and they had referred him to the police station that had taken Merlin into custody. The policeman on duty had made some enquiries and had told him that they had released a Merlin Emrys on Monday afternoon, as there were no charges placed on him. They had apologised and explained they had no idea where he had gone after that, even after Arthur had ranted and asked them if they knew who the fuck they thought they were dealing with.  In hindsight, it had not been the best way to address the police. Morgana had snatched the phone away and hissed obscenities at him for acting like such a child.

Arthur had then had a flash of brilliance, even if he did say so himself. He had managed to sneak out of the house while Morgana was having her legs waxed. He had closed the door on her heated cursing and had jogged down the street to the cash point, repeating his plan as he went.

  1. Hire a private detective
  2. Pay him an obscene amount of money to find Merlin, with the chance of double if he found him quickly.
  3. Kick the drink
  4. Tell Merlin how he felt
  5. Live happily ever after



In his head, it had sounded like the perfect plan, and he had grinned childishly to himself as he slotted in his card and tried to take out a large sum of money. He had been tapping his fingers idly on the keypad, when the machine had beeped warningly and a sign had flashed up saying that his account had been deactivated. He had frowned at the screen and in the end, tried all 13 of his accounts. They had all been the same.

He had stormed home, furious, and slammed his way into the living room, where Morgana had been calmly sat in her robe, having a pedicure. She had looked at him over the edge of her magazine as he had fumed in the doorway.

She hadn’t felt it necessary to tell him that their father had cut off his allowance, frozen his trust fund, and closed all of his accounts sooner.  He had thought if Arthur was going to act like a child he should be treated like one. Because, Morgana had said, getting beaten up and robbed was so stupid of him.

That had scuppered his plans well and truly.

Morgana had escorted him to his meeting at the end of the week, after managing to forcibly drag him from his darkened room, where he had spent the rest of his week alternately pacing in anger and laying in lethargy. On the way she had told him how undignified he was being, repeatedly.

When they had pulled up he had had a sick pleasure in telling Morgana that he had in fact, already been attending this particular meeting for two weeks already. What he hadn’t told her was he hadn’t managed to be completely sober when he had attended. A week was a fucking long time to stay sober when you had demons to keep at bay.

But this time, this time was different. This time, he was going to speak about his problems, offload all the hurt and anguish that caused him to drink. Yes he would feel like an arse, but it was time he manned up and pulled himself out of his own pit of despair, because it wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about Merlin too.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Merlin's POV

Time seemed to stand still. He had watched the light change, hunched against the wall of his cell, the afternoon sun growing ever dim, the darkness enveloping the sky, the crescent moon washing pale stripes across his face. He had hugged his arms closer to his knees as the sky had lightened and dawn had broken. As the sun rose Merlin pulled in on himself even tighter, shutting out the brightness that streamed through the barred window. He raised his head from the crook between his knees when he heard the heavy metal door of his cell being opened, and he hastily wiped at his eyes and cheeks, trying to clear the tear tracks. He unfolded his long limbs that were curled tightly around him, and felt his muscles protest at the movement.

He stood shakily and brushed his hands self-consciously down his ragged clothing. A man in a pale blue shirt and grey trousers, a plain tie loose around the collar and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, stepped into the cell. Adding that to the hard look on his face, Merlin assumed he was a detective, which he confirmed by saying “I’m Detective Inspector Agravaine”

The man’s eyes were cold, and seemed to bore into Merlin, routing out every wrong thing had done to be laid bare before his judgement. Merlin shivered and dropped his gaze to the floor. He tried to stand firm, to draw his armoured shield to protect him, but his trust in himself, his belief that he didn’t need anyone else, had been shattered, and he felt so alone.

All his life he had never needed anyone else. Every time he had even had a thought to trust someone, they would crush his spirit and his soul, turn it to stone and chip away at it until they had made him into living statue, cold and hard and unfeeling.

All the suffering had hardened his heart, and turned against any kindness or hope, and he had only seen people as tools, to manipulate with his false charm and wit, take what he needed and leave all emotions behind.

But Arthur was different; he had stumbled into his life, quite literally, and had been open and vulnerable with Merlin, making it so easy for Merlin to take and manipulate him if he had wanted to. But no one had ever been like that with merlin before; there had always been a price that Merlin had had to pay. Arthur had flipped all of Merlin’s beliefs on their heads, had soothed all his fears and his hurt, and had firmly wedged himself into Merlin’s affections. In those blissful few hours they had spent in each other’s company, Merlin had felt so much more for Arthur than he had ever felt for anyone else.

DI Agravaine had simply gestured to Merlin to follow him and led him down the corridor to a door labelled interrogation room 3. The Detective pushed the door open wide and let Merlin walk in to the oppressing silence. He looked fearfully around the room, as if the bland walls hid demons that would crawl out at the slightest provocation. Agravaine strode around the small table that was placed in the centre of the room and sat in the comfier looking of the two chairs placed on opposite sides of it. He simply looked at Merlin has he shuffled meekly over to sit in the other chair, tension showing in the lines of his shoulders.

Agravaine still did not utter a word.

“Maybe” Merlin thought “he was trying to get Merlin to blurt out his wrong doings”.

 But for all that Arthur had changed him, and for all being away from him had broken Merlin, he still had an ingrained wariness of all police, and this detective just gave off an air of unjustified cruelty. Merlin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and his gaze moving restlessly, alighting anywhere but Agravaine’s face.

Agravaine cleared this throat, and leant forwards slowly to stare intently at Merlin, who had looked around at the noise, and now was trapped by Agravaine’s focus, his eyes sharp and unblinking. He shuddered internally, as he drew the shutters up and laid his mask of indifference over the top. Agravaine sighed and blinked once, breaking the hold of his gaze.

“So, Merlin Emrys, you are homeless, is that correct?”

Merlin kept silent, not even letting a shadow of an expression cross his face.

“Does the knife belong to you? Or were you keeping for someone else?”

“Was it you friend Arthur Pendragon’s?” Merlin felt a brief shock at hearing Arthur’s name, and Agravaine zeroed in on him. He squashed the emotion roughly.

“Where did you get the knife from?” Did you steal it?”

“You know could get up to 4 years in prison for possession of an offensive weapon in public?”

“If you explain to us why you had the weapon in your possession in the first place, then that sentence could be reduced”

Agravaine kept talking, his questions coming thick and fast, but Merlin did not listen to him. He knew what Agravaine was doing was highly illegal; there was no tape recorder, there was no lawyer present, and there was no way Merlin was going to say a word. He shifted in a suitable position of boredom, slumped low in his chair, lids heavy and a curl of derision on his lips, and he hoped it would frustrate Agravaine enough, so he would be taken back to his solitude.

Agravaine narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, there was a sharp knock on the door. Officer Elyan peered cautiously around the door.

“Sir, can I have a word?”

Agravaine nodded sharply and strode out of the room without even glancing at Merlin. Merlin watched him go, and then slumped even further into his seat.

He wanted to get up, press his ear against the door and listen with intense curiosity, but he really really didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was. He sat, drumming his fingers on the table in a mindless rhythm, trying to perfect his air of “I don’t care”

“WHAT?!?!” Merlin sat bolt upright at the shout from outside.

He stared at the door, trying to see through it to the heated sounding argument beyond. It didn’t work. All there was was the dull wood, and muffled sounds of angry voices

The door suddenly slammed open and bounced off the wall, leaving a sizeable hole in the plaster, and just narrowly missing hitting Agravaine as he stormed back into the room. He stood with his arms crossed and his stance wide, everything about him reading hostile and dangerous to Merlin. He muttered something almost sullenly, like a small child who never gets his own way. Merlin just looked at him nonplussed, too scared to speak.

“I said, you’re free to go”

Merlin almost let his jaw drop; Agravaine looked like your typical dirty cop, making Merlin loathe him instantly, so why would he suddenly decide to let Merlin go?

 “why? I thought you’d all but put me in prison, I mean, you seemed pretty certain i was guilty whether I said something or not”

Agraviane huffed out a sighed, as if it pained him to talk to such low life “Well, apparently our evidence has gone missing, so we have nothing to hold you with” He turned towards the door, dismissing Merlin entirely. “sign out at the desk to collect your belongings” He disappeared out of the door.

Merlin stood tentatively, expecting Agravaine to return at any moment and laugh at him for foolishly thinking he was being serious.

When no one came back for him, he walked with more confidence out of the room and to the desk where only a short while ago he had stupidly pleaded for the police to help him.

There officer Elyan was leaning over the counter, scribbling notes into a set of files, shuffling them about, and glancing from one to another, a slight frown on his face. Merlin cleared his throat. Officer Elyan slowly placed the files into a neat pile, before looking up at Merlin, as small apologetic smile on his face.

Merlin wanted to glare at him, to scowl, or reach out a hand and punch that smile right off of his face, but that would not be the cleverest thing to, seeing as he was still in the police station, and had just been released. Bloody hell, it was like Arthur had used up his quotient of kindness and patience for the year, and now Merlin couldn’t even muster a sarcastic quip anymore. If he ever saw Arthur again, he wasn’t quite sure whether he wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“I was told to come and collect my belongings?” hoping they had his blanket and spare change, otherwise he was in for a rough night.

Elyan ducked under the counter and produced a large pile of clothing. Merlin opened his mouth the protest that these weren’t his, but Elyan just widened his smile and urged the pile into his hands. Merlin was struck dumb, and when Officer Elyan asked him the sign the form that he pushed across the desk, it was all he could do to juggle the clothing pile into one arm and lean forward to hastily scrawl his signature across the line.

“It’s strange, how your knife has gone missing, almost as if someone had removed it on purpose.”

Merlin jolted slightly at the voice at his ear, the words throwing him even more off kilter. He leaned back to look Elyan in the eye, pen still poised over the freshly signed paper.

“It’s in the dumpster on Camelot road” He whispered, his eyes darting up to the camera in the corner. He pulled the paper from Merlin, and stood up fully, feigning bored nonchalance, but his eyes showed compassion and caring.

Merlin backed a few steps away from the counter, his bundle clenched tightly to his chest. He didn’t know whether to smile, or sob in relief, so he just turned on his heel and fled. He almost ran all the way to Camelot road, the doorway where he and Arthur had met passing in a blur.

He had got to the road, well it had been more of an alleyway really, and located the dumpster about half way down. The knife, his knife, had been placed at the back, not at all hidden, which meant officer Elyan had known Merlin would be the first one here, and so had probably only removed the knife from evidence whilst he was being “interviewed” by DI Agravaine.

Merlin had been speechless. That a relative stranger, someone who represented everything that Merlin had feared and resented, had risked his own career for someone as worthless as Merlin, had made him think he may not be so worthless after all.

Merlin had set the knife down along with his pile of newly acquired clothing. There had been enough for Merlin to shuck all of his ragged clothes, changing efficiently in the cold afternoon. He had wrapped his knife tightly in corner of the new blanket and counted his change. Five pound coins jingled in his palm. He was back to how he had been, like Arthur had never been in his life. Well, he shouldn’t be so sentimental; Officer Elyan had now fed him for the week. He had put the money with his knife and had hunkered down in the alley with the blanket tight around him, to fall into an exhausted sleep.

When he woke, his new clothes did nothing to hide his lack of hygiene. Jesus he reeked.

The week passed much as it had before he had ever known Arthur Pendragon, thievery, trickery and restless sleep. When he dreamt, it was of Arthur, of safety and crooked smiles, companionship, arrogant humour, warmth and comfort. It was always bittersweet comfort, a show of what he’d come so close to having.

 He tried to sleep as little as possible, but then the demons came, and he hated them.

He still held out a desperate slither of hope that he would be saved.

“I’ll find you, I promise!”

That Arthur would save him.


	14. Chapter 14

“Arthur? Arthur!”

Arthur gave a jolt at the sound of his name, and he was wrenched from the memory back into the dank dreary hall. He looked around the circle, at the expressions that ranged from utter confusion, so amusement. Damn it, he done it again. He wandered off into his own lala land, for god knows how long, and now they all knew he was actually crazy. Fuck.

“Arthur?”

The councillor leading the session repeated his name for a third time. He’d been doing that a lot this session.  The first time Arthur had actually got up to speak, and the poor man had to deal with a flood of jumbled words and emotions alternating with utter silence and dazed looks. He would probably have Arthur committed to a mental hospital for this.

The man had a concerned look on his face, a small dip between his eyebrows and a small downturn to moving lips. Moving.

“For fucks sake Arthur, pull yourself together and actually focus on what the man is saying instead of staring at his face.” Jeez, he was acting like he drunk, when for once, he was stone cold sober.

“…. So that concludes our session for the day. Thank you Arthur, for speaking, I know it took a lot of courage to stand up here today” he started clapping, and a few of the circle joined in half-heartedly. Fucking pricks. Merlin’s cheeky grin flashed through his mind, easing his temper slightly. He was here to help himself, and ultimately help Merlin, so he needed to keep calm and get through this. God he missed him.

He slouched his way over to the exit before the councillor could stop him with his pity talks and shitty comfort. He pushed the heavy door open, late afternoon sun streaming in. He shaded his eyes with a hand, and scanned the car park for Morgana. Her sleek black Mercedes beeped twice in short succession from the far corner. Of course she would park in the furthest fucking space from the door, probably so she won’t be associated with him, bitch.

As he neared the car, she started the engine, obviously impatient to be leaving.  He slid into the passenger’s seat, and slumped down, just radiating anger. Yes he felt better, he had poured his heart and soul into that room, and those relative strangers may not think any better of him, but he felt lighter, like he had scrubbed a little of the darkness from his soul. But those memories had brought his thoughts right back to Merlin.

“Well, don’t you look like a bundle of joy” Morgana mocked without taking her eyes off the road

“Fuck off” Arthur resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at her. Lord, he was not a child. Anymore.

“Come on big bro, what’s wrong?” She crooned at him

He side eyed Morgana long and hard, wondering whether to insult her intelligence or her face. He sighed, no, it wasn’t worth the effort.

“You wouldn’t understand”

Morgana’s face cleared suddenly. “I do. I understand” She sighed. “He is ok, you know”

Arthur whipped his head round so fast, his neck creaked. “What?”

“Merlin”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, but no sound would come out. He closed his eyes to try to calm his mind, but all he could see was the white hot pain of losing Merlin. Blood thrummed in his ears, and he felt his skin grow warm. His hands clenched with the urge to wrench the steering wheel from Morganas hands and beat her bloody. But that would surely send them careening to their deaths, the small corner of his brain not snarling with rage reminded him. He settled for lashing her with stinging worded blows.

“HOW DARE YOU!! YOU TOLD ME YOUKNEW NOTHING OF MERLIN. YOU TOLD ME, WHEN I BEGGED AND SHOUTED AND PLEADED, THAT YOU HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT. THE WHOLE WEEK I HAVE BEEN MISERABLE, AND YOU KNEW ABOUT HIM. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED! YOU UTTER FUCKING BITCH!”

Arthur went to wrench the door open, but Morgana flipped the locks closed, and pulled the car into a layby.

“LET ME OUT! I CAN’T FUCKING BARE TO LOOK AT YOU RIGHT NOW!”

Morgana switched the engine off and swivelled in her seat to fix Arthur with a steely gaze

“Don’t you dare yell at me, Arthur Pendragon! I had to protect you, protect us, after you so foolishly got yourself into trouble again. You may be older than me, but you act like a child. You couldn’t take care of yourself, let alone some street urchin. When you were in the hospital, I had the paramedics and police who dealt with you questioned and compensated after your outrageous behaviour towards them. Do you know how it would have looked if the paper had got word of how you had treated people only doing their jobs, only trying to help you. Then they told me of Merlin, of how you had seemed to care so much for him, so I had to find out who he was, where he was, if he was threat to you.”

“A THREAT TO ME?! MERLIN IS MY… my..” His what? Acquaintance? Friend? More? He had no idea.

“I told you Arthur. Do. Not. Shout at me. Or I will leave you here.”

“alright, alright, sorry. So you know where Merlin is?” Arthur’s heart beat faster, sounding loud in the quiet car as he waited for her answer.

“Yes I do. I have hired a private detective to watch him, to make sure he says nothing of your time together to any journalist” She turned and stared at him, all pretence of her usual spite gone. Her brow furrowed slightly, dark eyes searching him. Arthur held his breath, not daring to guess what she was thinking behind her strong gaze.

Mind obviously made up, she broke eye contact to retrieve her phone from her purse, and pressed a single button. Morgana passed to phone silently to him. Arthur looked at her questioningly

She spoke quietly. “It’s ringing; speak to the detective. Find him”

*****

Merlin was wrenched from his memory. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breath came in little gasps.  Well, that memory had certainly knocked any thoughts of Mordred out of his head, but now every beat of his heart had a strange rhythm and every play of muscle over bone felt different.  Everything about him ached with the loss of Arthur.

“Life has screwed me over once again” he thought bitterly. He knew he was never going to see Arthur again, he was in a completely different place in London, and it wasn’t like he was on any databases, with a neat list of all his qualifications and former residences. He snorted.

He picked himself up from the alley floor, and wiped the cold sweat on his newer clothes. Their thickness kept him warm at night, but after a week, they were dirty and foul smelling. He stepped gingerly around his pool of vomit, his nose wrinkling at the odor. He collected his stuff from the rubbish dump, and did one final check around before thinking about finding a new place to live. He never spent more than a few days in each place, scared that They would hunt him down, or that the police would come and arrest him. But he had stayed in this alley for so much longer than he usually dared, hopeful that Arthur would somehow find him.

Arthur had never come, and he had sat alone in the cold and dark, waiting for him.

Now it was time to move, and leave his stupid hope behind.  He stuffed his belongings into a used plastic bag and trudged out of the alleyway. He clenched his fists tight, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. He did not want to feel so devastated over something he should have known would never happen, but his heart would not listen, as it splintered and fractured beyond repair.

He pushed his feelings down, choosing to deal with them later and focused on weaving through the crowds, choosing turns at random, pressing himself towards an unknown destination. The crowds parted and blurred, making a sea of anonymous faces. He checked over his shoulder regularly, a habit that was hard to break, though over time it had become only a passing glance, a sweep of the people behind him to see if anyone stood out as suspicious. Everyone was engrossed in their own business, but one man took a little longer to turn away from Merlin’s gaze than usual.

He took it as just another strange person in the vast city of London, and carried on his way. He took several more turns, into a quieter part of London, and was able to move more freely, with less people recoiling from him in disgust. He gave his usual glance behind him, and saw with some startlement, that the man was still following him. He sped up, checking over his shoulder more frequently, to see that the man was keeping pace. Merlin darted into an alleyway, his heart in his throat, but was brought up short when he came to a dead end.  He whirled around, his breaths cut short by panic. Nobody had followed him, so he crept slowly back to the mouth of the alley, and tried to look inconspicuously onto the street.

The man was stooped and elderly, with shoulder length grey hair. Apart from that, he was very unremarkable in appearance. He took a mobile phone out of his pocket, and had a brief conversation with the person on the other end, constantly throwing looks at the alley Merlin was hiding in. He ended the call and stuffed the phone into his pocket. He walked with long strides to the other side of the road, deceptively agile for his age, and he sat on a bench, pulled out a book and promptly proceeded to ignore Merlin in favour of the worn looking pages.

Merlin cautiously edged out of the alley, facing the man, and set a brisk pace in the opposite direction. He did not know who the man was or what he was about, but Merlin was far too frightened to stick around to find out. There were too many people wanted to hurt him now, he had to disappear. Get out of London, become unknown in a new city. He lost himself in plans and schemes, not even checking the way he had come for threats while he was trying to put distance between him and the strange man.

Heavy footsteps thundered up behind him, so quick he didn’t have chance to react until a hand clamped on his shoulder and span him around.


	15. Chapter 15

“Morgana?”

“Ermm… actually it’s Arthur. Arthur Pendragon”

He cringed at the sound of his own voice, god he sounded so pathetic. Morgana snorted and he had to resist the urge to punch her.

“Aah yes, Morgana said I may be speaking to you sometime soon”

“Did she?” Arthur turned to look at Morgana with a frown, but for once her face was curiously blank.

“Yes. She seemed quite worried about you this past week. She made absolutely sure that I did not interfere with Merlin’s life, but that I let no harm come to him.”

Arthur was speechless. Morgana had always been so sarcastic and cruel, never once treating Arthur with kindness, always showing disdain for him and his lifestyle. But here she was, looking out for the one person Arthur had found to care about. Jesus fucking Christ, this single week had turned his whole life upside down and broken through every one of his beliefs, his disappointments and assumptions. He was going to have to spend a lot of time putting his world to rights. Hopefully Merlin would be by his side to help.

“I assume you are ringing about the whereabouts of one Merlin Emrys? I fear he has noticed that I have been following him, and has started to panic.”

“Where is he?! Where are you?” Arthur was starting to sweat. Merlin was so near, and he was so close to being reunited with him. He would be able to keep him safe, take him away from all the horrors of his past life and help him. They could help each other. If only he can get to him before he bolts.

“I’m currently on Valiant Street. I would hurry, if I follow the boy, he would only run faster. I think only you could calm him now”

Arthur punches the end call button on the phone without even a thank you or goodbye. With his new sense of character he feels a fleeting sense of guilt, but it is brushed past as he loses almost all reason. He has to get to Merlin. _Now._

He turns to Morgana, pleas on the edge of his lips, but she is already starting the car.

“Where?”

“Valiant Street.” Arthur knows he doesn’t have to ask her to hurry, the urgency in his voice makes her nod firmly and pull the car back around in a screech of tires.

“I do love you, you know that don’t you?”

Arthur clenches his jaw. She is trying, she really is. Trying to reach across all those years of animosity and cruelty between them, trying to make amends. It will be hard, but this is a start, at least.

Arthur swallows hard and reaches across the gap. Metaphorically of course. Jesus Christ, the Pendragon’s didn’t do touchy feely, especially not with each other. Ok maybe merlin would be an exception.

“I know. And you know that…. What you said, I do too, right?” Dammit, she had always been more eloquent than him.

She gave her patented smirk, eyes never leaving the road. “I Never doubted it for a moment, big brother”

The car sped through the city of London, buildings flashing by, nothing making an impression on Arthur, the constant rhythm of his heartbeat drowning out all else.

God what if he was too late? What if merlin had panicked? Taken flight too soon? He could tell from the way their brief conversations had been, that Merlin must have a terrible past, and there were probably people after him. Arthur had to find him, if only to protect him.

All this other, complicated _stuff,_ they could deal with at their own pace. If Merlin even felt the same way. Like seriously, He had known this boy, man, for all of a few hours, but the way he had crawled inside Arthur’s soul and wrapped his way around his heart, there was no going back.

He steeled himself as Morgana pulled the car to an abrupt halt at the end of Valiant Street.

“Go. Call me when you find him”

He gave her an honest smile, the first one in a long time. He almost fell out of the car in his haste, and ignoring the flaring pain from his barely healing would, ran full pelt down Valiant Street, looking frantically for that mop of messy dark hair.

There.

At least Arthur hoped it was him. The hair looked the same, but the clothes were different, and he didn’t think Merlin would have chance to change them very often on the streets.

He dived through the crowd, Shouting Merlin’s name at the top of his voice, but the man seemed to give no sign that he had heard, or he truly wasn’t Merlin. He _had_ to be Merlin.

Closed the short distance between them, and tried not to collapse from the pain as he placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and pulled him around.

 

***** 

 

Although Merlin had been taken by surprise, his instincts told him to fight. He would not go back. They couldn’t make him!

As he was span around, he swung a wild fist out, and by some miracle, it connect with the jaw of the person behind him, and their head rocked to the side as Merlin tried to twist himself from their grasp.

“Fucking hell Merlin!”

He froze. He knew that voice, god he’d dreamed of that voice, in between his haunting nightmares.

“Arthur?”

His heart pounded and the adrenaline made him tingle all over. He stepped back a pace and looked him over. He looked better, cleaner and the bruises were fading. And he was _here._

“how are you here? Why are you here?”

“I promised I’d find you, didn’t i?”

Merlin wanted to laugh and cry all at once, his emotions stormy and his body weak ever since Arthur had left. He settled for slapping Arthur around the face, probably harder than necessary.

“Shit!! That bloody hurt! What the hell was that for?!”

“Oh” Merlin blinked “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…. You’re here, oh god it’s really you”

Arthur chuckled quietly, apparently amused by how flustered Merlin was by his presence. Prat.

“How did you find me?”

At that, Arthur blushed and looked sheepish. The expression sat uncomfortably on his face. Merlin snorted internally, of course it did, Arthur did not seem the type to be sorry for anything. Well, maybe he was learning, changing. Maybe Merlin could help him change, if that was what he wanted.

“My, ah, sister. She had you followed.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur talked right over him.

 “Look, I didn’t know, I only found out about an hour ago, and I was furious with her! But for all she is a pain in my arse, she was trying to make sure you were ok, among other things.”

Arthur stepped closer to Merlin and lowered his voice “Please believe me, I had no idea. I wanted to come and find you as soon as I was released from hospital, but my sister kept me under house arrest for the whole week, and my father stopped all my allowance. There was nothing I could do! As soon as I knew where you were, I raced over, hoping I wouldn’t be too late, that you wouldn’t have bolted.”

Merlin leaned in and gingerly pressed his fingertips to Arthur’s face, running the pads over the fading bruises on his cheek and nose.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re here now, even if it did take you forever, you prat. I’m severely hoping that the man that has been following me is your sister’s detective person?” He inclined his head back the way he had come.

Arthur turned to look back the way he’d come, seeming surprised by the distance. Merlin’s hand slipped from his face to his shoulder, resting there comfortably.

“I, I don’t know. I only spoke to him; I’ve never seen his face”

Merlin tensed, but Arthur grasped the hand on his shoulder before he could pull it away, and raised it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the centre of his palm, making Merlin’s breath hitch.

“Merlin, breathe. I’ve got you, no-one can ever hurt you again, I promise.” Arthur murmured into his palm, eyes locked with Merlin’s

All those emotions were welling to the surface again, making his head twirl and his heart ache. This man, he picked him up and tossed him about, but he had come back for him, found him, just as he had promised.  Before he had the chance to cry, Merlin cupped both his hands gently around Arthurs face and pressed their lips together.

Arthur gave a small squeak of surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, capturing Merlin’s full bottom lip between his. As the kiss deepened, Merlin moaned and tightened his grip on Arthur, causing him to wince.

Merlin broke the kiss and took a step back, his hands just resting lightly on Arthur’s skin, his fingers tracing gentle patterns over his cheekbones, inspecting the yellow and blue skin.

“I’m sorry; I forgot you were still hurt. I shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic” Merlin blushed and made to pull his hands away, but Arthur put his hand over the top of one, keeping it in place, and entwining his fingers with the other, bringing it close to their sides.

“It’s ok, besides, no offence but you taste a bit funny.”

Merlin should have taken offence, but he was far too happy, and besides Arthur was probably right, he did live on the street.

Merlin grinned “you can be a massive arse can’t you?”

Arthur gave a cheeky grin “yeah, but I’m your arse, you clotpole” He squeezed their hands

“clotpole?!”

Arthur dived in for another kiss, quieting his protest, his lips hard and insistent, before he pulled away and rested his forehead against Merlin’s, staring in wonder at him.

“ _Mer-_ lin” Arthur whispered his name with awe and reverence, making Merlin shiver with delight.

“come on, let’s go home”

“Home?” Merlin disentangled them, and looked at him with confusion.

“Well, that’s only if you want to live with me?” Arthur seemed uncertain “I only want you to be safe”

Merlin smiled, he really was a prat.

He linked their fingers back together and tugged him into walking alongside him. “let’s go home”

 

* * *

 

 

“Ow!! Arthur! What the hell was that for?” Merlin rubbed the back of his head, where Arthur had back handed him

“Retaliation, dollop head”


End file.
